TWO YEARS BEFORE THE MAST

A Personal Narrative of Life at Sea

By

Richard Henry Dana, Jr. 

With an introduction and notes by

Homer Eaton Keyes, B. L. 

Assistant Professor of Art in Dartmouth College

 ----Crowded in the rank and narrow ship, -- Housed on the wild sea with wild usages, -- Whate'er in the inland dales the land conceals Of fair and exquisite, O! nothing, nothing, Do we behold of that in our rude voyage. Coleridge's Wallenstein. 

CONTENTS

 Introduction Biographical Note California and her Missions Bibliographical References Diagram of Ships Explanation of Diagram

 Two Years Before the Mast Twenty-Four Years After

INTRODUCTION

Biographical Note

Two years before the mast were but an episode in the life of RichardHenry Dana, Jr. ; yet the narrative in which he details the experiencesof that period is, perhaps, his chief claim to a wide remembrance. Hisservices in other than literary fields occupied the greater part of hislife, but they brought him comparatively small recognition and manydisappointments. His happiest associations were literary, hispleasantest acquaintanceships those which arose through his fame as theauthor of one book. The story of his life is one of honest andcompetent effort, of sincere purpose, of many thwarted hopes. Thetraditions of his family forced him into a profession for which he wasintellectually but not temperamentally fitted: he should have been ascholar, teacher, and author; instead he became a lawyer. 

Born in Cambridge, Mass. , August 1, 1815, Richard Henry Dana, Jr. , cameof a line of Colonial ancestors whose legal understanding and patrioticzeal had won them distinction. His father, if possessed of less vigorthan his predecessors, was yet a man of culture and ability. He waswidely known as poet, critic, and lecturer; and endowed his son withnative qualities of intelligence, good breeding, and honesty. 

After somewhat varied and troublous school days, young Dana enteredHarvard University, where he took high rank in his classes and bid fairto make a reputation as a scholar. But at the beginning of his thirdyear of college a severe attack of measles interrupted his course, andso affected his eyes as to preclude, for a time at least, all idea ofstudy. The state of the family finances was not such as to permit offoreign travel in search of health. Accordingly, prompted by necessityand by a youthful love of adventure, he shipped as a common sailor inthe brig, Pilgrim, bound for the California coast. His term of servicelasted a trifle over two years--from August, 1834, to September, 1836. The undertaking was one calculated to kill or cure. Fortunately it hadthe latter effect; and, upon returning to his native place, physicallyvigorous but intellectually starved, he reentered Harvard and workedwith such enthusiasm as to graduate in six months with honor. 

Then came the question of his life work. Though intensely religious, he did not feel called to the ministry; business made no appeal; hisancestors had been lawyers; it seemed best that he should follow wherethey had led. Had conditions been those of to-day, he would naturallyhave drifted into some field of scholarly research, --political scienceor history. As it was, he entered law school, which, in 1840, he leftto take up the practice of his profession. But Dana had not the tact, the personal magnetism, or the business sagacity to make a brilliantsuccess before the bar. Despite the fact that he had become a masterof legal theory, an authority upon international questions, and acounsellor of unimpeachable integrity, his progress was painfully slowand toilsome. Involved with his lack of tact and magnetism there was, too, an admirable quality of sturdy obstinacy that often worked himinjury. Though far from sharing the radical ideas of theAbolitionists, he was ardent in his anti-slavery ideas and did nothesitate to espouse the unpopular doctrines of the Free-Soil party of1848, or to labor for the freedom of those Boston negroes, who, underthe Fugitive Slave Law of 1850, were in danger of deportation to theSouth. 

His activity in the latter direction resulted in pecuniary loss, socialostracism and worse; for upon one occasion he was set upon and nearlykilled by a pair of thugs. But Dana was not a man to be swerved fromhis purpose by considerations of policy or of personal safety. He methis problems as they came to him, took the course which he believed tobe right and then stuck to it with indomitable tenacity. Yet, curiously enough, with none of the characteristics of the politician, he longed for political preferment. At the hands of the people thiscame to him in smallest measure only. Though at one time a member ofthe Massachusetts Legislature, he was defeated as candidate for thelower house of Congress, and in 1876 suffered the bitterestdisappointment of his life, when the libellous attacks of enemiesprevented the ratification of his nomination as Minister to England. 

Previous to this he had served his country as United States DistrictAttorney during the Civil War, a time when the office demanded thehighest type of ability and uprightness. That the governmentappreciated this was shown in 1867 by its choice of Dana as one of itscounsel in the prosecution of Jefferson Davis for treason. Theposition of legal representative before the Halifax tribunal of 1877, which met to discuss fishery questions at issue between the UnitedStates and Canada, was given him no doubt in part because of hiseminent fitness, in part as balm for the wound of the preceding year. 

But whatever satisfaction he may have found in such honors as time andripening years brought to him, his chief joy and relaxation lay intravel. When worry and overwork began to tell upon him, he would betakehimself to shore or mountains. Upon several occasions he visitedEurope, and in 1859 made a tour of the world. At length, in 1876, hegave up active life and took residence abroad, with the idea of findingleisure for the preparation of a treatise on international law. He wasstill engaged in collecting his material when, on January 6, 1882, death overtook him. He was buried in Rome in the Protestant Cemetery, whose cypresses cast their long shadows over the graves of manydistinguished foreigners who have sought a last refuge of health andpeace under the skies of Italy. 

Such a career as his would seem far enough from being a failure. Yet, in retirement, Dana looked back upon it not without regret. As alawyer, he had felt a justifiable desire to see his labors crowned byhis elevation to the bench; as an active participant in public affairs, he had felt that his services and talents rendered him deserving of aseat in Congress. Lacking these things, he might have hoped that thepractice of his profession would yield him a fortune. Here again hewas disappointed. In seeking the fulfillment of his ambitions, he wasalways on the high road to success; he never quite arrived. 

It is remarkable that, having written one successful book, Dana did notseek further reward as a man of letters. Two Years before the Mastappeared in 1840, while its author was still a law student. Though atthe time it created no great stir in the United States, it was mostfavorably received in England, where it paved the way for many pleasantand valuable acquaintanceships. The following year, Dana produced asmall volume on seamanship, entitled The Seaman's Friend. This, and ashort account of a trip to Cuba in 1859, constitute the sole additionsto his early venture. He was a copious letter-writer and kept fulljournals of his various travels; but he never elaborated them forpublication. Yet, long before his death, he had seen the narrative ofhis sailor days recognized as an American classic. Time has notdiminished its reputation. We read it to-day not merely for itssimple, unpretentious style; but for its clear picture of sea lifeprevious to the era of steam navigation, and for its graphicdescription of conditions in California before visions of gold sent thelong lines of "prairie schooners" drifting across the plains to unfoldthe hidden destiny of the West. 

California and her Missions

It is not easy to realize that, during the stirring days when theeastern coast-line of North America was experiencing the ferment ofrevolution, the Pacific seaboard was almost totally unexplored, itspopulation largely a savage one. But Spain, long established inMexico, was slowly pushing northward along the California coast. Heremissaries were the Franciscan friars; her method the founding ofIndian missions round which, in due course, should arise towns intendedto afford harbor for Spanish ships and to serve as outposts against thesteady encroachments of Russia, who, from Alaska, was reaching outtoward San Francisco Bay. 

Thus began the white settlement of California. San Diego Mission wasfounded in 1769; San Carlos, at Monterey, in 1770; San Francisco, in1776; Santa Barbara, in 1786. For the general guardianship of thesemissions a garrison, or presidio, was in each case provided. It wasresponsible not only for the protection of the town thus created, butfor all the missions in the district. The presidio of San Diego, forexample, was in charge of the missions of San Diego, San Gabriel, SanJuan Capistrano, and San Luis Rey. So, likewise, there were garrisonswith extensive jurisdiction at Santa Barbara, Monterey, and SanFrancisco. 

The Indians in the immediate vicinity of a mission were attachedthereto by a sort of gentle enslavement. They were provided specialquarters, were carefully looked after by the priests, their religiouseducation fostered, and their innate laziness conquered by specificrequirements of labor in agriculture, cattle raising, and simplehandicrafts. It was an arrangement which worked well for both partiesconcerned. The slavery of the Indians was not unlike the obligation ofchildren to their parents; they were comfortable, well behaved, and forthe most part contented with the rule of the friars, who, on theirside, began to accumulate considerable wealth from the well-directedefforts of their charges. 

The supposition was that in the course of years the Indians mightbecome so habituated to thrift and industry as to be released fromsupervision and safely left to their own devices. But that happyconsummation had not occurred when, in 1826, Mexico succeeded inseparating herself from the mother country and began her career as anindependent republic, of which California was a part. Nevertheless, the greed of politicians suddenly wrought the change which was to havecome as the slow development of years. By governmental decree, theIndians were declared free of obligation to the friars; the latter werestripped of their temporal powers, their funds seized under the guiseof a loan, and their establishments often subjected to what was littleshort of pillage. This state of affairs had scarcely begun at the timeof the author's visit to California; still, as he points out in ChapterXXI, the decline of the missions had already set in. 

The final blow to their power and usefulness came, however, with theupheaval accompanying the Mexican war and the acquisition of Californiaby the United States. Although this country returned all missionbuildings to the control of the Church, their reason for being hadvanished; they were sold, or destroyed, or feebly maintained on fundsinsufficient to forestall dilapidation. Fortunately the Franciscanfriars had built for beauty as well as for use; the architecture whichthey devised in skillful adaptation of their native Spanish typedisplayed originality and picturesque charm. Hence, of late years, Californians have come to feel a worthy pride in the monuments of theearly history of their state, and have taken steps to preserve such ofthem as survive. No less than twenty-one are today the goal of thetraveller. 

The reader who is interested in pursuing the subject thus outlined willfind its satisfactory treatment in George Wharton James's _In and outof the old Missions of California, _ a book that combines agreeablereading with excellent illustrations. 

References

The author's life is fully and sympathetically treated in CharlesFrancis Adams's Richard Henry Dana. Boston, 1890. 

The most exhaustive history of California and the Pacific coast ingeneral is H. H. Bancroft's History of the Pacific States of NorthAmerica. San Francisco, 1882-1888. A briefer work is Josiah Royce'sCalifornia. Boston, 1886. Though this book considers mainly thetransition period, 1846-1856, its introduction gives an excellentsurvey of earlier years. F. J. Turner's Rise of the New West, which isvolume XIV of the American Nation, New York, 1907, tells the story ofthe development of the whole territory west of the Mississippi. 

Those who are curious to search out all the items of ship constructionwill find them adequately illustrated, under the caption, "ship, " inboth Standard and Century dictionaries. 

Explanation of Diagram

The following diagram, from which many details have been omitted, presents sufficient data for an understanding of the more importantnautical terms which occur in the text. A number of other such termshave been explained in the notes. In omitting reference to many more, the editor has felt that ovarannotation would turn a straightforwardand interesting narrative into a mere excuse for a nautical dictionary, and quite defeat the purpose of the book. The author's technicalvocabulary, even when most bewildering, serves to give force and thevividness of local color to his descriptions. To pause in the midst ofa storm at sea for comment and definition would result merely inchecking the movement of the story and putting a damper upon theimagination. 

Two Years before the Mast affords the teacher a somewhat unusualopportunity. Few literary works are better calculated to stimulateinquiry into the remarkable changes which three-quarters of a centuryhave wrought in the United States. Much profitable class employment inthe drawing of maps and the writing of brief themes dealing withvarious phases of the romantic history of California will suggestitself. The numerous geographical allusions should be traced with theaid of an atlas. 

 | --+-- --+-- | |j| /| | --+-- / |f| | |i| / +-- ---+--- / /|e| | | | / / +--- | | h| / / | | ----+---- /a / |d | | | | /__/ b +---- | | g | / /_____|c | \__|____\ /__/ |___| | \------+----------+------- \_______________________/

 a. Flying jib. B. Jib. C. Foresail. D. Foretopsail. E. Foretopgallantsail. F. Foreroyal. G. Mainsail. H. Maintopsail. I. Maintopgallantsail. J. Mainroyal. 

 | |B2 | | |C2 |A2 6--+-- | 3--+-- | 9--+-- | || | || | || | 5--+-- | 2---+--- |B1 |C1 E --__ |A1 || 8---+--- --__ || | | --| 4----+---- || 1----+---- | 7----+---- G __-- | | | __-- / |A |B |C F __-- \ / D | | | __-- H\/ ------______|________|________|________--------- \_______________________________/

 A. Mizzenmast. A1. Mizzentopmast. A2. Mizzentopgallant and royalmast. B. Mainmast. B1. Maintopmast. B2. Maintopgallant and royalmast. C. Foremast. C1. Foretopmast. C2. Foretopgallant and royalmast. D. Spanker boom. E. Spanker gaff. F. Bowsprit. G. Jib boom and flying jib boom. H. Martingale boom. 

 1. Crossjack yard. 2. Mizzentopsail yard. 3. Mizzentopgallant yard. 4. Main yard. 5. Maintopsail yard. 6. Maintopgallant yard. 7. Fore yard. 8. Foretopsail yard. 9. Foretopgallant yard. 

[Editor: Many more numbered lifts, stays, and braces were left out ofthese simplified diagrams. They are intended to be viewed using afixed-width font. ]

Each mast section is joined to the lower one in two places:

 | | | | ___|_|_ \_____/ Mast cap. | | | | | | | | | _|_|_|_ \_____/ Trestletree. | | | |

Each mast also sports net-like rigging from the lowest trestletree tothe deck. These are called "shrouds". 

TWO YEARS BEFORE THE MAST

CONTENTS

 I DEPARTURE II FIRST IMPRESSIONS--"SAIL HO!" III SHIP'S DUTIES--TROPICS IV A ROGUE--TROUBLE ON BOARD--"LAND HO!"--POMPERO--CAPE HORN V CAPE HORN--A VISIT VI LOSS OF A MAN--SUPERSTITION VII JUAN FERNANDEZ--THE PACIFIC VIII "TARRING DOWN"--DAILY LIFE--"GOING AFT"--CALIFORNIA IX CALIFORNIA--A SOUTH-EASTER X A SOUTH-EASTER--PASSAGE UP THE COAST XI PASSAGE UP THE COAST--MONTEREY XII LIFE AT MONTEREY XIII TRADING--A BRITISH SAILOR XIV SANTA BARBARA--HIDE-DROGHING--HARBOR DUTIES--DISCONTENT--SAN PEDRO XV A FLOGGING--A NIGHT ON SHORE--THE STATE OF THINGS ON BOARD--SAN DIEGO XVI LIBERTY-DAY ON SHORE XVII SAN DIEGO--A DESERTION--SAN PEDRO AGAIN--BEATING THE COAST XVIII EASTER SUNDAY--"SAIL HO!"--WHALES--SAN JUAN--ROMANCE OF HIDE-DROGHING--SAN DIEGO AGAIN XIX THE SANDWICH ISLANDERS--HIDE-CURING--WOOD-CUTTING--RATTLE- SNAKES--NEW-COMERS XX LEISURE--NEWS FROM HOME--"BURNING THE WATER" XXI CALIFORNIA AND ITS INHABITANTS XXII LIFE ON SHORE--THE ALERT XXIII NEW SHIP AND SHIPMATES--MY WATCHMATE XXIV SAN DIEGO AGAIN--A DESCENT--HURRIED DEPARTURE--A NEW SHIPMATE XXV RUMORS OF WAR--A SPOUTER--SLIPPING FOR A SOUTH-EASTER--A GALE XXVI SAN FRANCISCO--MONTEREY XXVII THE SUNDAY WASH-UP--ON SHORE--A SET-TO--A GRANDEE--"SAIL HO!"--A FANDANGO XXVIII AN OLD FRIEND--A VICTIM--CALIFORNIA RANGERS--NEWS FROM XXIX LOADING FOR HOME--A SURPRISE--LAST OF AN OLD FRIEND--THE LAST HIDE--A HARD CASE--UP ANCHOR, FOR HOME!--HOMEWARD BOUND XXX BEGINNING THE LONG RETURN VOYAGE--A SCARE XXXI BAD PROSPECTS--FIRST TOUCH OF CAPE HORN--ICEBERGS--TEMPERANCE SHIPS--LYING-UP--ICE--DIFFICULTY ON BOARD--CHANGE OF COURSE--STRAITS OF MAGELLAN XXXII ICE AGAIN--A BEAUTIFUL AFTERNOON--CAPE HORN--"LAND HO!"--HEADING FOR HOME XXXIII CRACKING ON--PROGRESS HOMEWARD--A PLEASANT SUNDAY--A FINE SIGHT--BY-PLAY XXXIV NARROW ESCAPES--THE EQUATOR--TROPICAL SQUALLS--A THUNDER STORM XXXV A DOUBLE-REEF-TOP-SAIL BREEZE--SCURVY--A FRIEND IN NEED--PREPARING FOR PORT--THE GULF STREAM XXXVI SOUNDINGS--SIGHTS FROM HOME--BOSTON HARBOR--LEAVING THE SHIP CONCLUDING CHAPTER

PREFACE

I am unwilling to present this narrative to the public without a fewwords in explanation of my reasons for publishing it. Since Mr. Cooper's Pilot and Red Rover, there have been so many stories ofsea-life written, that I should really think it unjustifiable in me toadd one to the number without being able to give reasons in somemeasure warranting me in so doing. 

With the single exception, as I am quite confident, of Mr. Ames'sentertaining, but hasty and desultory work, called "Mariner'sSketches, " all the books professing to give life at sea have beenwritten by persons who have gained their experience as naval officers, or passengers, and of these, there are very few which are intended tobe taken as narratives of facts. 

Now, in the first place, the whole course of life, and daily duties, the discipline, habits and customs of a man-of-war are very differentfrom those of the merchant service; and in the next place, howeverentertaining and well written these books may be, and howeveraccurately they may give sea-life as it appears to their authors, itmust still be plain to every one that a naval officer, who goes to seaas a gentleman, "with his gloves on, " (as the phrase is, ) and whoassociated only with his fellow-officers, and hardly speaks to a sailorexcept through a boatswain's mate, must take a very different view ofthe whole matter from that which would be taken by a common sailor. 

Besides the interest which every one must feel in exhibitions of lifein those forms in which he himself has never experienced it; there hasbeen, of late years, a great deal of attention directed toward commonseamen, and a strong sympathy awakened in their behalf. Yet I believethat, with the single exception which I have mentioned, there has notbeen a book written, professing to give their life and experiences, byone who has been of them, and can know what their life really is. Avoice from the forecastle has hardly yet been heard. 

In the following pages I design to give an accurate and authenticnarrative of a little more than two years spent as a common sailor, before the mast, in the American merchant service. It is written outfrom a journal which I kept at the time, and from notes which I made ofmost of the events as they happened; and in it I have adhered closelyto fact in every particular, and endeavored to give each thing its truecharacter. In so doing, I have been obliged occasionally to use strongand coarse expressions, and in some instances to give scenes which maybe painful to nice feelings; but I have very carefully avoided doingso, whenever I have not felt them essential to giving the truecharacter of a scene. My design is, and it is this which has induced meto publish the book, to present the life of a common sailor at sea asit really is, --the light and the dark together. 

There may be in some parts a good deal that is unintelligible to thegeneral reader; but I have found from my own experience, and from whatI have heard from others, that plain matters of fact in relation tocustoms and habits of life new to us, and descriptions of life undernew aspects, act upon the inexperienced through the imagination, sothat we are hardly aware of our want of technical knowledge. Thousandsread the escape of the American frigate through the British channel, and the chase and wreck of the Bristol trader in the Red Rover, andfollow the minute nautical manoeuvres with breathless interest, who donot know the name of a rope in the ship; and perhaps with none the lessadmiration and enthusiasm for their want of acquaintance with theprofessional detail. 

In preparing this narrative I have carefully avoided incorporating intoit any impressions but those made upon me by the events as theyoccurred, leaving to my concluding chapter, to which I shallrespectfully call the reader's attention, those views which have beensuggested to me by subsequent reflection. 

These reasons, and the advice of a few friends, have led me to givethis narrative to the press. If it shall interest the general reader, and call more attention to the welfare of seamen, or give anyinformation as to their real condition, which may serve to raise themin the rank of beings, and to promote in any measure their religiousand moral improvement, and diminish the hardships of their daily life, the end of its publication will be answered. 

 R. H. D. , Jr. Boston, July, 1840. 

CHAPTER I

DEPARTURE

The fourteenth of August was the day fixed upon for the sailing of thebrig Pilgrim on her voyage from Boston round Cape Horn to the westerncoast of North America. As she was to get under weigh early in theafternoon, I made my appearance on board at twelve o'clock, in fullsea-rig, and with my chest, containing an outfit for a two or threeyear voyage, which I had undertaken from a determination to cure, ifpossible, by an entire change of life, and by a long absence from booksand study, a weakness of the eyes, which had obliged me to give up mypursuits, and which no medical aid seemed likely to cure. 

The change from the tight dress coat, silk cap, and kid gloves of anundergraduate at Cambridge, to the loose duck trowsers, checked shirtand tarpaulin hat of a sailor, though somewhat of a transformation, wassoon made, and I supposed that I should pass very well for a jack tar. But it is impossible to deceive the practised eye in these matters; andwhile I supposed myself to be looking as salt as Neptune himself, Iwas, no doubt, known for a landsman by every one on board as soon as Ihove in sight. A sailor has a peculiar cut to his clothes, and a wayof wearing them which a green hand can never get. The trowsers, tightround the hips, and thence hanging long and loose round the feet, asuperabundance of checked shirt, a low-crowned, well varnished blackhat, worn on the back of the head, with half a fathom of black ribbonhanging over the left eye, and a peculiar tie to the black silkneckerchief, with sundry other minutiae, are signs, the want of whichbetray the beginner at once. Beside the points in my dress which wereout of the way, doubtless my complexion and hands were enough todistinguish me from the regular salt, who, with a sun-burnt cheek, widestep, and rolling gait, swings his bronzed and toughened handsathwart-ships, half open, as though just ready to grasp a rope. 

"With all my imperfections on my head, " I joined the crew, and wehauled out into the stream, and came to anchor for the night. The nextday we were employed in preparations for sea, reeving studding-sailgear, crossing royal yards, putting on chafing gear, and taking onboard our powder. On the following night, I stood my first watch. Iremained awake nearly all the first part of the night from fear that Imight not hear when I was called; and when I went on deck, so greatwere my ideas of the importance of my trust, that I walked regularlyfore and aft the whole length of the vessel, looking out over the bowsand taffrail at each turn, and was not a little surprised at thecoolness of the old salt whom I called to take my place, in stowinghimself snugly away under the long boat, for a nap. That wassufficient lookout, he thought, for a fine night, at anchor in a safeharbor. 

The next morning was Saturday, and a breeze having sprung up from thesouthward, we took a pilot on board, hove up our anchor, and beganbeating down the bay. I took leave of those of my friends who came tosee me off, and had barely opportunity to take a last look at the city, and well-known objects, as no time is allowed on board ship forsentiment. As we drew down into the lower harbor, we found the windahead in the bay, and were obliged to come to anchor in the roads. Weremained there through the day and a part of the night. My watch beganat eleven o'clock at night, and I received orders to call the captainif the wind came out from the westward. About midnight the wind becamefair, and having called the captain, I was ordered to call all hands. How I accomplished this I do not know, but I am quite sure I did notgive the true hoarse, boatswain call of "A-a-ll ha-a-a-nds! up anchor, a-ho-oy!" In a short time every one was in motion, the sails loosed, the yards braced, and we began to heave up the anchor, which was ourlast hold upon Yankee land. I could take but little part in all thesepreparations. My little knowledge of a vessel was all at fault. Unintelligible orders were so rapidly given and so immediatelyexecuted; there was such a hurrying about, and such an intermingling ofstrange cries and stranger actions, that I was completely bewildered. There is not so helpless and pitiable an object in the world as alandsman beginning a sailor's life. At length those peculiar, long-drawn sounds, which denote that the crew are heaving the windlass, began, and in a few moments we were under weigh. The noise of thewater thrown from the bows began to be heard, the vessel leaned overfrom the damp night breeze, and rolled with the heavy ground swell, andwe had actually begun our long, long journey. This was literallybidding "good night" to my native land. 

CHAPTER II

FIRST IMPRESSIONS--"SAIL HO!"

The first day we passed at sea was the Sabbath. As we were just fromport, and there was a great deal to be done on board, we were kept atwork all day, and at night the watches were set, and everything putinto sea order. When we were called aft to be divided into watches, Ihad a good specimen of the manner of a sea captain. After the divisionhad been made, he gave a short characteristic speech, walking thequarter deck with a cigar in his mouth, and dropping the words outbetween the puffs. 

"Now, my men, we have begun a long voyage. If we get along welltogether, we shall have a comfortable time; if we don't, we shall havehell afloat. --All you've got to do is to obey your orders and do yourduty like men, --then you'll fare well enough;--if you don't, you'llfare hard enough, --I can tell you. If we pull together, you'll find mea clever fellow; if we don't, you'll find me a bloody rascal. --That'sall I've got to say. --Go below, the larboard watch!"

I being in the starboard or second mate's watch, had the opportunity ofkeeping the first watch at sea. S----, a young man, making, likemyself, his first voyage, was in the same watch, and as he was the sonof a professional man, and had been in a counting-room in Boston, wefound that we had many friends and topics in common. We talked thesematters over, --Boston, what our friends were probably doing, ourvoyage, etc. , until he went to take his turn at the look-out, and leftme to myself. I had now a fine time for reflection. I felt for thefirst time the perfect silence of the sea. The officer was walking thequarter deck, where I had no right to go, one or two men were talkingon the forecastle, whom I had little inclination to join, so that I wasleft open to the full impression of everything about me. However much Iwas affected by the beauty of the sea, the bright stars, and the cloudsdriven swiftly over them, I could not but remember that I wasseparating myself from all the social and intellectual enjoyments oflife. Yet, strange as it may seem, I did then and afterwards takepleasure in these reflections, hoping by them to prevent my becominginsensible to the value of what I was leaving. 

But all my dreams were soon put to flight by an order from the officerto trim the yards, as the wind was getting ahead; and I could plainlysee by the looks the sailors occasionally cast to windward, and by thedark clouds that were fast coming up, that we had bad weather toprepare for, and had heard the captain say that he expected to be inthe Gulf Stream by twelve o'clock. In a few minutes eight bells werestruck, the watch called, and we went below. I now began to feel thefirst discomforts of a sailor's life. The steerage in which I lived wasfilled with coils of rigging, spare sails, old junk and ship stores, which had not been stowed away. Moreover, there had been no berthsbuilt for us to sleep in, and we were not allowed to drive nails tohang our clothes upon. The sea, too, had risen, the vessel was rollingheavily, and everything was pitched about in grand confusion. Therewas a complete "hurrah's nest, " as the sailors say, "everything on topand nothing at hand. " A large hawser had been coiled away upon mychest; my hats, boots, mattress and blankets had all fetched away andgone over to leeward, and were jammed and broken under the boxes andcoils of rigging. To crown all, we were allowed no light to findanything with, and I was just beginning to feel strong symptoms ofsea-sickness, and that listlessness and inactivity which accompany it. Giving up all attempts to collect my things together, I lay down uponthe sails, expecting every moment to hear the cry of "all hands, ahoy, "which the approaching storm would soon make necessary. I shortly heardthe rain-drops falling on deck, thick and fast, and the watch evidentlyhad their hands full of work, for I could hear the loud and repeatedorders of the mate, the trampling of feet, the creaking of blocks, andall the accompaniments of a coming storm. In a few minutes the slideof the hatch was thrown back, which let down the noise and tumult ofthe deck still louder, the loud cry of "All hands, ahoy! tumble up hereand take in sail, " saluted our ears, and the hatch was quickly shutagain. When I got upon deck, a new scene and a new experience werebefore me. The little brig was close hauled upon the wind, and lyingover, as it then seemed to me, nearly upon her beam ends. The heavyhead sea was beating against her bows with the noise and force almostof a sledge-hammer, and flying over the deck, drenching us completelythrough. The topsail halyards had been let go, and the great sailsfilling out and backing against the masts with a noise like thunder. The wind was whistling through the rigging, loose ropes flying about;loud and, to me, unintelligible orders constantly given and rapidlyexecuted, and the sailors "singing out" at the ropes in their hoarseand peculiar strains. In addition to all this, I had not got my "sealegs on, " was dreadfully sick, with hardly strength enough to hold onto anything, and it was "pitch dark. " This was my state when I wasordered aloft, for the first time, to reef topsails. 

How I got along, I cannot now remember. I "laid out" on the yards andheld on with all my strength. I could not have been of much service, for I remember having been sick several times before I left the topsailyard. Soon all was snug aloft, and we were again allowed to go below. This I did not consider much of a favor, for the confusion ofeverything below, and that inexpressible sickening smell, caused by theshaking up of the bilge-water in the hold, made the steerage but anindifferent refuge from the cold, wet decks. I had often read of thenautical experiences of others, but I felt as though there could benone worse than mine; for in addition to every other evil, I could notbut remember that this was only the first night of a two years' voyage. When we were on deck we were not much better off, for we werecontinually ordered about by the officer, who said that it was good forus to be in motion. Yet anything was better than the horrible state ofthings below. I remember very well going to the hatchway and putting myhead down, when I was oppressed by nausea, and always being relievedimmediately. It was as good as an emetic. 

This state of things continued for two days. 

Wednesday, Aug. 20th. We had the watch on deck from four till eight, this morning. When we came on deck at four o'clock, we found thingsmuch changed for the better. The sea and wind had gone down, and thestars were out bright. I experienced a corresponding change in myfeelings; yet continued extremely weak from my sickness. I stood inthe waist on the weather side, watching the gradual breaking of theday, and the first streaks of the early light. Much has been said ofthe sun-rise at sea; but it will not compare with the sun-rise onshore. It wants the accompaniments of the songs of birds, the awakeninghum of men, and the glancing of the first beams upon trees, hills, spires, and house-tops, to give it life and spirit. But though theactual rise of the sun at sea is not so beautiful, yet nothing willcompare with the early breaking of day upon the wide ocean. 

There is something in the first grey streaks stretching along theeastern horizon and throwing an indistinct light upon the face of thedeep, which combines with the boundlessness and unknown depth of thesea around you, and gives one a feeling of loneliness, of dread, and ofmelancholy foreboding, which nothing else in nature can give. Thisgradually passes away as the light grows brighter, and when the suncomes up, the ordinary monotonous sea day begins. 

From such reflections as these, I was aroused by the order from theofficer, "Forward there! rig the head-pump!" I found that no time wasallowed for day-dreaming, but that we must "turn-to" at the firstlight. Having called up the "idlers, " namely carpenter, cook, steward, etc. , and rigged the pump, we commenced washing down the decks. Thisoperation, which is performed every morning at sea, takes nearly twohours; and I had hardly strength enough to get through it. After wehad finished, swabbed down, and coiled up the rigging, I sat down onthe spars, waiting for seven bells, which was the sign for breakfast. The officer, seeing my lazy posture, ordered me to slush the main-mast, from the royal-mast-head, down. The vessel was then rolling a little, and I had taken no sustenance for three days, so that I felt tempted totell him that I had rather wait till after breakfast; but I knew that Imust "take the bull by the horns, " and that if I showed any sign ofwant of spirit or of backwardness, that I should be ruined at once. SoI took my bucket of grease and climbed up to the royal-mast-head. Herethe rocking of the vessel, which increases the higher you go from thefoot of the mast, which is the fulcrum of the lever, and the smell ofthe grease, which offended my fastidious senses, upset my stomachagain, and I was not a little rejoiced when I got upon the comparativeterra firma of the deck. In a few minutes seven bells were struck, thelog hove, the watch called, and we went to breakfast. Here I cannot butremember the advice of the cook, a simple-hearted African. "Now, " sayshe, "my lad, you are well cleaned out; you haven't got a drop of your'long-shore swash aboard of you. You must begin on a new tack, --pitchall your sweetmeats overboard, and turn-to upon good hearty salt beefand sea bread, and I'll promise you, you'll have your ribs wellsheathed, and be as hearty as any of 'em, afore you are up to theHorn. " This would be good advice to give to passengers, when theyspeak of the little niceties which they have laid in, in case ofsea-sickness. 

I cannot describe the change which half a pound of cold salt beef and abiscuit or two produced in me. I was a new being. We had a watchbelow until noon, so that I had some time to myself; and getting a hugepiece of strong, cold, salt beef from the cook, I kept gnawing upon ituntil twelve o'clock. When we went on deck I felt somewhat like a man, and could begin to learn my sea duty with considerable spirit. Atabout two o'clock we heard the loud cry of "sail ho!" from aloft, andsoon saw two sails to windward, going directly athwart our hawse. Thiswas the first time that I had seen a sail at sea. I thought then, andalways have since, that it exceeds every other sight in interest andbeauty. They passed to leeward of us, and out of hailing distance; butthe captain could read the names on their sterns with the glass. Theywere the ship Helen Mar, of New York, and the brig Mermaid, of Boston. They were both steering westward, and were bound in for our "dearnative land. "

Thursday, Aug. 21st. This day the sun rose clear, we had a fine wind, and everything was bright and cheerful. I had now got my sea legs on, and was beginning to enter upon the regular duties of a sea-life. About six bells, that is, three o'clock, P. M. , we saw a sail on ourlarboard bow. I was very anxious, like every new sailor, to speak her. She came down to us, backed her main-top-sail, and the two vesselsstood "head on, " bowing and curvetting at each other like a couple ofwar-horses reined in by their riders. It was the first vessel that Ihad seen near, and I was surprised to find how much she rolled andpitched in so quiet a sea. She lunged her head into the sea, and then, her stern settling gradually down, her huge bows rose up, showing thebright copper, and her stern, and bresthooks dripping, like oldNeptune's locks, with the brine. Her decks were filled with passengerswho had come up at the cry of "sail ho, " and who by their dress andfeatures appeared to be Swiss and French emigrants. She hailed us atfirst in French, but receiving no answer, she tried us in English. Shewas the ship La Carolina, from Havre, for New York. We desired her toreport the brig Pilgrim, from Boston, for the north-west coast ofAmerica, five days out. She then filled away and left us to plough onthrough our waste of waters. This day ended pleasantly; we had gotinto regular and comfortable weather, and into that routine of sea-lifewhich is only broken by a storm, a sail, or the sight of land. 

CHAPTER III

SHIP'S DUTIES--TROPICS

As we had now a long "spell" of fine weather, without any incident tobreak the monotony of our lives, there can be no better place todescribe the duties, regulations, and customs of an Americanmerchantman, of which ours was a fair specimen. 

The captain, in the first place, is lord paramount. He stands nowatch, comes and goes when he pleases, and is accountable to no one, and must be obeyed in everything, without a question, even from hischief officer. He has the power to turn his officers off duty, and evento break them and make them do duty as sailors in the forecastle. Whenthere are no passengers and no supercargo, as in our vessel, he has nocompanion but his own dignity, and no pleasures, unless he differs frommost of his kind, but the consciousness of possessing supreme power, and, occasionally, the exercise of it. 

The prime minister, the official organ, and the active andsuperintending officer, is the chief mate. He is first lieutenant, boatswain, sailing-master, and quarter-master. The captain tells himwhat he wishes to have done, and leaves to him the care of overseeing, of allotting the work, and also the responsibility of its being welldone. The mate (as he is always called, par excellence) also keeps thelog-book, for which he is responsible to the owners and insurers, andhas the charge of the stowage, safe keeping, and delivery of the cargo. He is also, ex-officio, the wit of the crew; for the captain does notcondescend to joke with the men, and the second mate no one cares for;so that when "the mate" thinks fit to entertain "the people" with acoarse joke or a little practical wit, every one feels bound to laugh. 

The second mate's is proverbially a dog's berth. He is neither officernor man. The men do not respect him as an officer, and he is obligedto go aloft to reef and furl the topsails, and to put his hands intothe tar and slush, with the rest. The crew call him the "sailor'swaiter, " as he has to furnish them with spun-yarn, marline, and allother stuffs that they need in their work, and has charge of theboatswain's locker, which includes serving-boards, marline-spikes, etc. He is expected by the captain to maintain his dignity and to enforceobedience, and still is kept at a great distance from the mate, andobliged to work with the crew. He is one to whom little is given andof whom much is required. His wages are usually double those of acommon sailor, and he eats and sleeps in the cabin; but he is obligedto be on deck nearly all the time, and eats at the second table, thatis, makes a meal out of what the captain and chief mate leave. 

The steward is the captain's servant, and has charge of the pantry, from which every one, even the mate himself, is excluded. Thesedistinctions usually find him an enemy in the mate, who does not liketo have any one on board who is not entirely under his control; thecrew do not consider him as one of their number, so he is left to themercy of the captain. 

The cook is the patron of the crew, and those who are in his favor canget their wet mittens and stockings dried, or light their pipes at thegalley on the night watch. These two worthies, together with thecarpenter and sailmaker, if there be one, stand no watch, but, beingemployed all day, are allowed to "sleep in" at night, unless all handsare called. 

The crew are divided into two divisions, as equally as may be, calledthe watches. Of these the chief mate commands the larboard, and thesecond mate the starboard. They divide the time between them, being onand off duty, or, as it is called, on deck and below, every other fourhours. If, for instance, the chief mate with the larboard watch havethe first night-watch from eight to twelve; at the end of the fourhours, the starboard watch is called, and the second mate takes thedeck, while the larboard watch and the first mate go below until fourin the morning, when they come on deck again and remain until eight;having what is called the morning watch. As they will have been ondeck eight hours out of the twelve, while those who had the middlewatch--from twelve to four, will only have been up four hours, theyhave what is called a "forenoon watch below, " that is, from eight, A. M. , till twelve, M. In a man-of-war, and in some merchantmen, thisalteration of watches is kept up throughout the twenty-four hours; butour ship, like most merchantmen, had "all hands" from twelve o'clocktill dark, except in bad weather, when we had "watch and watch. "

An explanation of the "dog watches" may, perhaps, be of use to one whohas never been at sea. They are to shift the watches each night, sothat the same watch need not be on deck at the same hours. In order toeffect this, the watch from four to eight, P. M. , is divided into twohalf, or dog watches, one from four to six, and the other from six toeight. By this means they divide the twenty-four hours into sevenwatches instead of six, and thus shift the hours every night. As thedog watches come during twilight, after the day's work is done, andbefore the night watch is set, they are the watches in which everybodyis on deck. The captain is up, walking on the weather side of thequarter-deck, the chief mate is on the lee side, and the second mateabout the weather gangway. The steward has finished his work in thecabin, and has come up to smoke his pipe with the cook in the galley. The crew are sitting on the windlass or lying on the forecastle, smoking, singing, or telling long yarns. At eight o'clock, eight bellsare struck, the log is hove, the watch set, the wheel relieved, thegalley shut up, and the other watch goes below. 

The morning commences with the watch on deck's "turning-to" atday-break and washing down, scrubbing, and swabbing the decks. This, together with filling the "scuttled butt" with fresh water, and coilingup the rigging, usually occupies the time until seven bells, (halfafter seven, ) when all hands get breakfast. At eight, the day's workbegins, and lasts until sun-down, with the exception of an hour fordinner. 

Before I end my explanations, it may be well to define a day's work, and to correct a mistake prevalent among landsmen about a sailor'slife. Nothing is more common than to hear people say--"Are not sailorsvery idle at sea?--what can they find to do?" This is a very naturalmistake, and being very frequently made, it is one which every sailorfeels interested in having corrected. In the first place, then, thediscipline of the ship requires every man to be at work upon somethingwhen he is on deck, except at night and on Sundays. Except at thesetimes, you will never see a man, on board a well-ordered vessel, standing idle on deck, sitting down, or leaning over the side. It isthe officers' duty to keep every one at work, even if there is nothingto be done but to scrape the rust from the chain cables. In no stateprison are the convicts more regularly set to work, and more closelywatched. No conversation is allowed among the crew at their duty, andthough they frequently do talk when aloft, or when near one another, yet they always stop when an officer is nigh. 

With regard to the work upon which the men are put, it is a matterwhich probably would not be understood by one who has not been at sea. When I first left port, and found that we were kept regularly employedfor a week or two, I supposed that we were getting the vessel into seatrim, and that it would soon be over, and we should have nothing to dobut sail the ship; but I found that it continued so for two years, andat the end of the two years there was as much to be done as ever. Ashas often been said, a ship is like a lady's watch, always out ofrepair. When first leaving port, studding-sail gear is to be rove, allthe running rigging to be examined, that which is unfit for use to begot down, and new rigging rove in its place: then the standing riggingis to be overhauled, replaced, and repaired, in a thousand differentways; and wherever any of the numberless ropes or the yards are chafingor wearing upon it, there "chafing gear, " as it is called, must be puton. This chafing gear consists of worming, parcelling, roundings, battens, and service of all kinds--both rope-yarns, spun-yarn, marlineand seizing-stuffs. Taking off, putting on, and mending the chafinggear alone, upon a vessel, would find constant employment for two orthree men, during working hours, for a whole voyage. 

The next point to be considered is, that all the "small stuffs" whichare used on board a ship--such as spun-yarn, marline, seizing-stuff, etc. --are made on board. The owners of a vessel buy up incrediblequantities of "old junk, " which the sailors unlay, after drawing outthe yarns, knot them together, and roll them up in balls. These"rope-yarns" are constantly used for various purposes, but the greaterpart is manufactured into spun-yarn. For this purpose every vessel isfurnished with a "spun-yarn winch;" which is very simple, consisting ofa wheel and spindle. This may be heard constantly going on deck inpleasant weather; and we had employment, during a great part of thetime, for three hands in drawing and knotting yarns, and making themspun-yarn. 

Another method of employing the crew is, "setting up" rigging. Wheneverany of the standing rigging becomes slack, (which is continuallyhappening), the seizings and coverings must be taken off, tackles gotup, and after the rigging is bowsed well taught, the seizings andcoverings replaced; which is a very nice piece of work. There is alsosuch a connection between different parts of a vessel, that one ropecan seldom be touched without altering another. You cannot stay a mastaft by the back stays, without slacking up the head stays, etc. If weadd to this all the tarring, greasing, oiling, varnishing, painting, scraping, and scrubbing which is required in the course of a longvoyage, and also remember this is all to be done in addition towatching at night, steering, reefing, furling, bracing, making andsetting sail, and pulling, hauling, and climbing in every direction, one will hardly ask, "What can a sailor find to do at sea?"

If, after all this labor--after exposing their lives and limbs instorms, wet and cold, "Wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch; The lion and the belly-pinched wolf Keep their fur dry;--"

the merchants and captain think that they have not earned their twelvedollars a month, (out of which they clothe themselves, ) and their saltbeef and hard bread, they keep them picking oakum--ad infinitum. Thisis the usual resource upon a rainy day, for then it will not do to workupon rigging; and when it is pouring down in floods, instead of lettingthe sailors stand about in sheltered places, and talk, and keepthemselves comfortable, they are separated to different parts of theship and kept at work picking oakum. I have seen oakum stuff placedabout in different parts of the ship, so that the sailors might not beidle in the snatches between the frequent squalls upon crossing theequator. Some officers have been so driven to find work for the crewin a ship ready for sea, that they have set them to pounding theanchors (often done) and scraping the chain cables. The "PhiladelphiaCatechism" is, "Six days shalt thou labor and do all thou art able, And on the seventh--holystone the decks and scrape the cable. "

This kind of work, of course, is not kept up off Cape Horn, Cape ofGood Hope, and in extreme north and south latitudes; but I have seenthe decks washed down and scrubbed, when the water would have frozen ifit had been fresh; and all hands kept at work upon the rigging, when wehad on our pea-jackets, and our hands so numb that we could hardly holdour marline-spikes. 

I have here gone out of my narrative course in order that any who readthis may form as correct an idea of a sailor's life and duty aspossible. I have done it in this place because, for some time, ourlife was nothing but the unvarying repetition of these duties, whichcan be better described together. Before leaving this description, however, I would state, in order to show landsmen how little they knowof the nature of a ship, that a ship-carpenter is kept in constantemploy during good weather on board vessels which are in, what iscalled, perfect sea order. 

CHAPTER IV

A ROGUE--TROUBLE ON BOARD--"LAND HO!"--POMPERO--CAPE HORN

After speaking the Carolina, on the 21st August, nothing occurred tobreak the monotony of our life until

Friday, September 5th, when we saw a sail on our weather (starboard)beam. She proved to be a brig under English colors, and passing underour stern, reported herself as forty-nine days from Buenos Ayres, boundto Liverpool. Before she had passed us, "sail ho!" was cried again, and we made another sail, far on our weather bow, and steering athwartour hawse. She passed out of hail, but we made her out to be anhermaphrodite brig, with Brazilian colors in her main rigging. By hercourse, she must have been bound from Brazil to the south of Europe, probably Portugal. 

Sunday, Sept. 7th. Fell in with the north-east trade winds. Thismorning we caught our first dolphin, which I was very eager to see. Iwas disappointed in the colors of this fish when dying. They werecertainly very beautiful, but not equal to what has been said of them. They are too indistinct. To do the fish justice, there is nothing morebeautiful than the dolphin when swimming a few feet below the surface, on a bright day. It is the most elegantly formed, and also thequickest fish, in salt water; and the rays of the sun striking upon it, in its rapid and changing motions, reflected from the water, make itlook like a stray beam from a rainbow. 

This day was spent like all pleasant Sabbaths at sea. The decks arewashed down, the rigging coiled up, and everything put in order; andthroughout the day, only one watch is kept on deck at a time. The menare all dressed in their best white duck trowsers, and red or checkedshirts, and have nothing to do but to make the necessary changes in thesails. They employ themselves in reading, talking, smoking, andmending their clothes. If the weather is pleasant, they bring theirwork and their books upon deck, and sit down upon the forecastle andwindlass. This is the only day on which these privileges are allowedthem. When Monday comes, they put on their tarry trowsers again, andprepare for six days of labor. 

To enhance the value of the Sabbath to the crew, they are allowed onthat day a pudding, or, as it is called, a "duff. " This is nothingmore than flour boiled with water, and eaten with molasses. It is veryheavy, dark, and clammy, yet it is looked upon as a luxury, and reallyforms an agreeable variety with salt beef and pork. Many a rascallycaptain has made friends of his crew by allowing them duff twice a weekon the passage home. 

On board some vessels this is made a day of instruction and ofreligious exercises; but we had a crew of swearers, from the captain tothe smallest boy; and a day of rest, and of something like quiet, social enjoyment, was all that we could expect. 

We continued running large before the north-east trade winds forseveral days, until Monday--

September 22d; when, upon coming on deck at seven bells in the morning, we found the other watch aloft throwing water upon the sails; andlooking astern, we saw a small clipper-built brig with a black hullheading directly after us. We went to work immediately, and put allthe canvas upon the brig which we could get upon her, rigging out oarsfor studding-sail yards; and continued wetting down the sails bybuckets of water whipped up to the mast-head, until about nine o'clock, when there came on a drizzling rain. The vessel continued in pursuit, changing her course as we changed ours, to keep before the wind. Thecaptain, who watched her with his glass, said that she was armed, andfull of men, and showed no colors. We continued running dead beforethe wind, knowing that we sailed better so, and that clippers arefastest on the wind. We had also another advantage. The wind waslight, and we spread more canvas than she did, having royals andsky-sails fore and aft, and ten studding-sails; while she, being anhermaphrodite brig, had only a gaff topsail, aft. Early in the morningshe was overhauling us a little, but after the rain came on and thewind grew lighter, we began to leave her astern. All hands remained ondeck throughout the day, and we got our arms in order; but we were toofew to have done anything with her, if she had proved to be what wefeared. Fortunately there was no moon, and the night which followed wasexceedingly dark, so that by putting out all the lights and alteringour course four points, we hoped to get out of her reach. We had nolight in the binnacle, but steered by the stars, and kept perfectsilence through the night. At daybreak there was no sign of anythingin the horizon, and we kept the vessel off to her course. 

Wednesday, October 1st. Crossed the equator in long. 24° 24' W. I now, for the first time, felt at liberty, according to the old usage, tocall myself a son of Neptune, and was very glad to be able to claim thetitle without the disagreeable initiation which so many have to gothrough. After once crossing the line you can never be subjected tothe process, but are considered as a son of Neptune, with full powersto play tricks upon others. This ancient custom is now seldom allowed, unless there are passengers on board, in which case there is always agood deal of sport. 

It had been obvious to all hands for some time that the second mate, whose name was F----, was an idle, careless fellow, and not much of asailor, and that the captain was exceedingly dissatisfied with him. Thepower of the captain in these cases was well known, and we allanticipated a difficulty. F---- (called Mr. By virtue of his office)was but half a sailor, having always been short voyages and remained athome a long time between them. His father was a man of some property, and intended to have given his son a liberal education; but he, beingidle and worthless, was sent off to sea, and succeeded no better there;for, unlike many scamps, he had none of the qualities of a sailor--hewas "not of the stuff that they make sailor of. " He was one of thatclass of officers who are disliked by their captain and despised by thecrew. He used to hold long yarns with the crew, and talk about thecaptain, and play with the boys, and relax discipline in every way. This kind of conduct always makes the captain suspicious, and is neverpleasant, in the end, to the men; they preferring to have an officeractive, vigilant, and distant as may be, with kindness. Among otherbad practices, he frequently slept on his watch, and having beendiscovered asleep by the captain, he was told that he would be turnedoff duty if he did it again. To prevent it in every way possible, thehen-coops were ordered to be knocked up, for the captain never sat downon deck himself, and never permitted an officer to do so. 

The second night after crossing the equator, we had the watch fromeight till twelve, and it was "my helm" for the last two hours. Therehad been light squalls through the night, and the captain told Mr. F----, who commanded our watch, to keep a bright look-out. Soon after Icame to the helm, I found that he was quite drowsy, and at last hestretched himself on the companion and went fast asleep. Soonafterwards, the captain came very quietly on deck, and stood by me forsome time looking at the compass. The officer at length became awareof the captain's presence, but pretending not to know it, began hummingand whistling to himself, to show that he was not asleep, and wentforward, without looking behind him, and ordered the main royal to beloosed. On turning round to come aft, he pretended surprise at seeingthe master on deck. This would not do. The captain was too "wideawake" for him, and beginning upon him at once, gave him a grandblow-up, in true nautical style--"You're a lazy, good-for-nothingrascal; you're neither man, boy, soger, nor sailor! you're no more thana thing aboard a vessel! you don't earn your salt! you're worse than aMahon soger!" and other still more choice extracts from the sailor'svocabulary. After the poor fellow had taken the harangue, he was sentinto his state-room, and the captain stood the rest of the watchhimself. 

At seven bells in the morning, all hands were called aft and told thatF---- was no longer an officer on board, and that we might choose oneof our own number for second mate. It is usual for the captain to makethis offer, and it is very good policy, for the crew think themselvesthe choosers and are flattered by it, but have to obey, nevertheless. Our crew, as is usual, refused to take the responsibility of choosing aman of whom we would never be able to complain, and left it to thecaptain. He picked out an active and intelligent young sailor, bornnear the Kennebee, who had been several Canton voyages, and proclaimedhim in the following manner: "I choose Jim Hall--he's your second mate. All you've got to do is, to obey him as you would me; and remember thathe is Mr. Hall. " F---- went forward into the forecastle as a commonsailor, and lost the handle to his name, while young fore-mast Jimbecame Mr. Hall, and took up his quarters in the land of knives andforks and tea-cups. 

Sunday, October 5th. It was our morning watch; when, soon after theday began to break, a man on the forecastle called out, "Land ho!" Ihad never heard the cry before, and did not know what it meant, (andfew would suspect what the words were, when hearing the strange soundfor the first time, ) but I soon found, by the direction of all eyes, that there was land stretching along our weather beam. We immediatelytook in studding-sails and hauled our wind, running in for the land. This was done to determine our longitude; for by the captain'schronometer we were in 25º W. , but by his observations we were muchfarther, and he had been for some time in doubt whether it was hischronometer or his sextant which was out of order. This land-fallsettled the matter, and the former instrument was condemned, andbecoming still worse, was never afterwards used. 

As we ran in towards the coast, we found that we were directly off theport of Pernambuco, and could see with the telescope the roofs of thehouses, and one large church, and the town of Olinda. We ran along bythe mouth of the harbor, and saw a full-rigged brig going in. At two, P. M. , we again kept off before the wind, leaving the land on ourquarter, and at sun-down, it was out of sight. It was here that Ifirst saw one of those singular things called catamarans. They arecomposed of logs lashed together upon the water; have one large sail, are quite fast, and, strange as it may seem, are trusted as good seaboats. We saw several, with from one to three men in each, boldlyputting out to sea, after it had become almost dark. The Indians go outin them after fish, and as the weather is regular in certain seasons, they have no fear. After taking a new departure from Olinda, we keptoff on our way to Cape Horn. 

We met with nothing remarkable until we were in the latitude of theriver La Plata. Here there are violent gales from the south-west, called Pomperos, which are very destructive to the shipping in theriver, and are felt for many leagues at sea. They are usually precededby lightning. The captain told the mates to keep a bright look-out, and if they saw lightning at the south-west, to take in sail at once. We got the first touch of one during my watch on deck. I was walking inthe lee gangway, and thought that I saw lightning on the lee bow. Itold the second mate, who came over and looked out for some time. Itwas very black in the south-west, and in about ten minutes we saw adistinct flash. The wind, which had been south-east, had now left us, and it was dead calm. We sprang aloft immediately and furled theroyals and top-gallant-sails, and took in the flying jib, hauled up themainsail and trysail, squared the after yards, and awaited the attack. A huge mist capped with black clouds came driving towards us, extendingover that quarter of the horizon, and covering the stars, which shonebrightly in the other part of the heavens. It came upon us at oncewith a blast, and a shower of hail and rain, which almost took ourbreath from us. The hardiest was obliged to turn his back. We let thehalyards run, and fortunately were not taken aback. The little vessel"paid off" from the wind, and ran on for some time directly before it, tearing through the water with everything flying. Having called allhands, we close-reefed the topsails and trysail, furled the courses andjob, set the fore-top-mast staysail, and brought her up nearly to hercourse, with the weather braces hauled in a little, to ease her. 

This was the first blow, that I had seen, which could really be calleda gale. We had reefed our topsails in the Gulf Stream, and I thoughtit something serious, but an older sailor would have thought nothing ofit. As I had now become used to the vessel and to my duty, I was ofsome service on a yard, and could knot my reef-point as well asanybody. I obeyed the order to lay[1] aloft with the rest, and foundthe reefing a very exciting scene; for one watch reefed thefore-topsail, and the other the main, and every one did his utmost toget his topsail hoisted first. We had a great advantage over thelarboard watch, because the chief mate never goes aloft, while our newsecond mate used to jump into the rigging as soon as we began to haulout the reef-tackle, and have the weather earing passed before therewas a man upon the yard. In this way we were almost always able toraise the cry of "Haul out to leeward" before them, and having knottedour points, would slide down the shrouds and back-stays, and sing outat the topsail halyards to let it be known that we were ahead of them. Reefing is the most exciting part of a sailor's duty. All hands areengaged upon it, and after the halyards are let go, there is no time tobe lost--no "sogering, " or hanging back, then. If one is not quickenough, another runs over him. The first on the yard goes to theweather earing, the second to the lee, and the next two to the "dog'sears;" while the others lay along into the bunt, just giving each otherelbow-room. In reefing, the yard-arms (the extremes of the yards) arethe posts of honor; but in furling, the strongest and most experiencedstand in the slings, (or, middle of the yard, ) to make up the bunt. Ifthe second mate is a smart fellow, he will never let any one takeeither of these posts from him; but if he is wanting either inseamanship, strength, or activity, some better man will get the buntand earings from him; which immediately brings him into disrepute. 

We remained for the rest of the night, and throughout the next day, under the same close sail, for it continued to blow very fresh; andthough we had no more hail, yet there was a soaking rain, and it wasquite cold and uncomfortable; the more so, because we were not preparedfor cold weather, but had on our thin clothes. We were glad to get awatch below, and put on our thick clothing, boots, and south-westers. Towards sun-down the gale moderated a little, and it began to clear offin the south-west. We shook our reefs out, one by one, and beforemidnight had top-gallant sails upon her. 

We had now made up our minds for Cape Horn and cold weather, andentered upon every necessary preparation. 

Tuesday, Nov. 4th. At day-break, saw land upon our larboard quarter. There were two islands, of different size but of the same shape; ratherhigh, beginning low at the water's edge, and running with a curvedascent to the middle. They were so far off as to be of a deep bluecolor, and in a few hours we sank them in the north-east. These werethe Falkland Islands. We had run between them and the main land ofPatagonia. At sun-set the second mate, who was at the masthead, saidthat he saw land on the starboard bow. This must have been the islandof Staten Land; and we were now in the region of Cape Horn, with a finebreeze from the northward, top-mast and top-gallant studding-sails set, and every prospect of a speedy and pleasant passage round. 

[1] This word "lay, " which is in such general use on board ship, beingused in giving orders instead of "go"; as "Lay forward!" "Lay aft!""Lay aloft!" etc. , I do not understand to be the neuter verb, lie, mispronounced, but to be the active verb lay, with the objective caseunderstood; as "Lay yourselves forwards!" "Lay yourselves aft!" etc. 

CHAPTER V

CAPE HORN--A VISIT

Wednesday, Nov. 5th. The weather was fine during the previous night, and we had a clear view of the Magellan Clouds, and of the SouthernCross. The Magellan Clouds consist of three small nebulae in thesouthern part of the heavens, --two bright, like the milky-way, and onedark. These are first seen, just above the horizon, soon after crossingthe southern tropic. When off Cape Horn, they are nearly overhead. Thecross is composed of four stars in that form, and is said to be thebrightest constellation in the heavens. 

During the first part of this day (Wednesday) the wind was light, butafter noon it came on fresh, and we furled the royals. We still keptthe studding-sails out, and the captain said he should go round withthem, if he could. Just before eight o'clock, (then about sun-down, inthat latitude, ) the cry of "All hands ahoy!" was sounded down the forescuttle and the after hatchway, and hurrying upon deck, we found alarge black cloud rolling on toward us from the south-west, andblackening the whole heavens. "Here comes the Cape Horn!" said thechief mate; and we had hardly time to haul down and clew up, before itwas upon us. In a few moments, a heavier sea was raised than I hadever seen before, and as it was directly ahead, the little brig, whichwas no better than a bathing machine, plunged into it, and all theforward part of her was under water; the sea pouring in through thebow-ports and hawse-hole and over the knight-heads, threatening to washeverything overboard. In the lee scuppers it was up to a man's waist. We sprang aloft and double reefed the topsails, and furled all theother sails, and made all snug. But this would not do; the brig waslaboring and straining against the head sea, and the gale was growingworse and worse. At the same time the sleet and hail were driving withall fury against us. We clewed down, and hauled out the reef-tacklesagain, and close-reefed the fore-topsail, and furled the main, and hoveher to on the starboard tack. Here was an end to our fine prospects. We made up our minds to head winds and cold weather; sent down theroyal yards, and unrove the gear, but all the rest of the top hamperremained aloft, even to the sky-sail masts and studding-sail booms. 

Throughout the night it stormed violently--rain, hail, snow, and sleetbeating down upon the vessel--the wind continuing to break ahead, andthe sea running high. At daybreak (about three, A. M. ) the deck wascovered with snow. The captain sent up the steward with a glass ofgrog to each of the watch; and all the time that we were off the Cape, grog was given to the morning watch, and to all hands whenever wereefed topsails. The clouds cleared away at sun-rise, and the windbecoming more fair, we again made sail and stood nearly up to ourcourse. 

Thursday, Nov. 6th. It continued more pleasant through the first partof the day, but at night we had the same scene over again. This time, we did not heave to, as on the night before, but endeavored to beat towindward under close-reefed top-sails, balance-reefed trysail, and foretop-mast stay-sail. This night it was my turn to steer, or, as thesailors say, my trick at the helm, for two hours. Inexperienced as Iwas, I made out to steer to the satisfaction of the officer, andneither S---- nor myself gave up our tricks, all the time that we wereoff the Cape. This was something to boast of, for it requires a gooddeal of skill and watchfulness to steer a vessel close hauled, in agale of wind, against a heavy head sea. "Ease her when she pitches, "is the word; and a little carelessness in letting her ship a heavy sea, might sweep the decks, or knock masts out of her. 

Friday, Nov. 7th. Towards morning the wind went down, and during thewhole forenoon we lay tossing about in a dead calm, and in the midst ofa thick fog. The calms here are unlike those in most parts of theworld, for there is always such a high sea running, and the periods ofcalm are so short, that it has no time to go down; and vessels, beingunder no command of sails or rudder, lie like logs upon the water. Wewere obliged to steady the booms and yards by guys and braces, and tolash everything well below. We now found our top hamper of some use, for though it is liable to be carried away or sprung by the sudden"bringing up" of a vessel when pitching in a chopping sea, yet it is agreat help in steadying a vessel when rolling in a long swell; givingit more slowness, ease, and regularity to the motion. 

The calm of the morning reminds me of a scene which I forgot todescribe at the time of its occurrence, but which I remember from itsbeing the first time that I had heard the near breathing of whales. Itwas on the night that we passed between the Falkland Islands and StatenLand. We had the watch from twelve to four, and coming upon deck, found the little brig lying perfectly still, surrounded by a thick fog, and the sea as smooth as though oil had been poured upon it; yet nowand then a long, low swell rolling over its surface, slightly liftingthe vessel, but without breaking the glassy smoothness of the water. Wewere surrounded far and near by shoals of sluggish whales andgrampuses; which the fog prevented our seeing, rising slowly to thesurface, or perhaps lying out at length, heaving out those peculiarlazy, deep, and long-drawn breathings which give such an impression ofsupineness and strength. Some of the watch were asleep, and the otherswere perfectly still, so that there was nothing to break the illusion, and I stood leaning over the bulwarks, listening to the slow breathingof the mighty creatures--now one breaking the water just alongside, whose black body I almost fancied that I could see through the fog; andagain another, which I could just hear in the distance--until the lowand regular swell seemed like the heaving of the ocean's mighty bosomto the sound of its heavy and long-drawn respirations. 

Towards the evening of this day, (Friday 7th, ) the fog cleared off, andwe had every appearance of a cold blow; and soon after sun-down it cameon. Again it was clew up and haul down, reef and furl, until we hadgot her down to close-reefed topsails, double-reefed trysail, andreefed forespenser. Snow, hail, and sleet were driving upon us most ofthe night, and the sea was breaking over the bows and covering theforward part of the little vessel; but as she would lay her course thecaptain refused to heave her to. 

Saturday, Nov. 8th. This day commenced with calm and thick fog, andended with hail, snow, a violent wind, and close-reefed topsails. 

Sunday, Nov. 9th. To-day the sun rose clear and continued so untiltwelve o'clock, when the captain got an observation. This was verywell for Cape Horn, and we thought it a little remarkable that, as wehad not had one unpleasant Sunday during the whole voyage, the onlytolerable day here should be a Sunday. We got time to clear up thesteerage and forecastle, and set things to rights, and to overhaul ourwet clothes a little. But this did not last very long. Between fiveand six--the sun was then nearly three hours high--the cry of "Allstarbowlines ahoy!" summoned our watch on deck; and immediately allhands were called. A true specimen of Cape Horn was coming upon us. Agreat cloud of a dark slate-color was driving on us from thesouth-west; and we did our best to take in sail, (for the light sailshad been set during the first part of the day, ) before we were in themidst of it. We had got the light sails furled, the courses hauled up, and the topsail reef-tackles hauled out, and were just mounting thefore-rigging, when the storm struck us. In an instant the sea, whichhad been comparatively quiet, was running higher and higher; and itbecame almost as dark as night. The hail and sleet were harder than Ihad yet felt them; seeming to almost pin us down to the rigging. Wewere longer taking in sail than ever before; for the sails were stiffand wet, the ropes and rigging covered with snow and sleet, and weourselves cold and nearly blinded with the violence of the storm. Bythe time we had got down upon deck again, the little brig was plungingmadly into a tremendous head sea, which at every drive rushed inthrough the bow-ports and over the bows, and buried all the forwardpart of the vessel. At this instant the chief mate, who was standingon the top of the windlass, at the foot of the spenser mast, calledout, "Lay out there and furl the jib!" This was no agreeable or safeduty, yet it must be done. An old Swede, (the best sailor on board, )who belonged on the forecastle, sprang out upon the bowsprit. Anotherone must go: I was near the mate, and sprang forward, threw thedown-haul over the windlass, and jumped between the knight-heads outupon the bowsprit. The crew stood abaft the windlass and hauled thejib down, while we got out upon the weather side of the jib-boom, ourfeet on the foot ropes, holding on by the spar, the great jib flyingoff to leeward and slatting so as almost to throw us off of the boom. For some time we could do nothing but hold on, and the vessel divinginto two huge seas, one after the other, plunged us twice into thewater up to our chins. We hardly knew whether we were on or off; whencoming up, dripping from the water, we were raised high into the air. John (that was the sailor's name) thought the boom would go, everymoment, and called out to the mate to keep the vessel off, and hauldown the staysail; but the fury of the wind and the breaking of theseas against the bows defied every attempt to make ourselves heard, andwe were obliged to do the best we could in our situation. Fortunately, no other seas so heavy struck her, and we succeeded in furling the jib"after a fashion"; and, coming in over the staysail nettings, were nota little pleased to find that all was snug, and the watch gone below;for we were soaked through, and it was very cold. The weathercontinued nearly the same through the night. 

Monday, Nov. 10th. During a part of this day we were hove to, but therest of the time were driving on, under close-reefed sails, with aheavy sea, a strong gale, and frequent squalls of hail and snow. 

Tuesday, Nov. 11th. The same. 

Wednesday, Nov. 12th. The same. 

Thursday, Nov. 13th. The same. 

We had now got hardened to Cape weather, the vessel was under reducedsail, and everything secured on deck and below, so that we had littleto do but steer and to stand our watch. Our clothes were all wetthrough, and the only change was from wet to more wet. It was in vainto think of reading or working below, for we were too tired, thehatchways were closed down, and everything was wet and uncomfortable, black and dirty, heaving and pitching. We had only to come below whenthe watch was out, wring out our wet clothes, hang them up, and turn inand sleep as soundly as we could, until the watch was called again. Asailor can sleep anywhere--no sound of wind, water, wood or iron cankeep him awake--and we were always fast asleep when three blows on thehatchway, and the unwelcome cry of "All starbowlines ahoy! eight bellsthere below! do you hear the news?" (the usual formula of calling thewatch), roused us up from our berths upon the cold, wet decks. Theonly time when we could be said to take any pleasure was at night andmorning, when we were allowed a tin pot full of hot tea, (or, as thesailors significantly call it, "water bewitched, ") sweetened withmolasses. This, bad as it was, was still warm and comforting, and, together with our sea biscuit and cold salt beef, made quite a meal. Yet even this meal was attended with some uncertainty. We had to goourselves to the galley and take our kid of beef and tin pots of tea, and run the risk of losing them before we could get below. Many a kidof beef have I seen rolling in the scuppers, and the bearer lying athis length on the decks. I remember an English lad who was always thelife of the crew, but whom we afterwards lost overboard, standing fornearly ten minutes at the galley, with this pot of tea in his hand, waiting for a chance to get down into the forecastle; and seeing whathe thought was a "smooth spell, " started to go forward. He had justgot to the end of the windlass, when a great sea broke over the bows, and for a moment I saw nothing of him but his head and shoulders; andat the next instant, being taken off of his legs, he was carried aftwith the sea, until her stern lifting up and sending the water forward, he was left high and dry at the side of the long-boat, still holding onto his tin pot, which had now nothing in it but salt water. Butnothing could ever daunt him, or overcome, for a moment, his habitualgood humor. Regaining his legs, and shaking his fist at the man at thewheel, he rolled below, saying, as he passed, "A man's no sailor, if hecan't take a joke. " The ducking was not the worst of such an affair, for, as there was an allowance of tea, you could get no more from thegalley; and though sailors would never suffer a man to go without, butwould always turn in a little from their own pots to fill up his, yetthis was at best but dividing the loss among all hands. 

Something of the same kind befell me a few days after. The cook hadjust made for us a mess of hot "scouse"--that is, biscuit pounded fine, salt beef cut into small pieces, and a few potatoes, boiled up togetherand seasoned with pepper. This was a rare treat, and I, being the lastat the galley, had it put in my charge to carry down for the mess. Igot along very well as far as the hatchway, and was just getting downthe steps, when a heavy sea, lifting the stern out of water, andpassing forward, dropping it down again, threw the steps from theirplace, and I came down into the steerage a little faster than I meantto, with the kid on top of me, and the whole precious mess scatteredover the floor. Whatever your feelings may be, you must make a joke ofeverything at sea; and if you were to fall from aloft and be caught inthe belly of a sail, and thus saved from instant death, it would not doto look at all disturbed, or to make a serious matter of it. 

Friday, Nov. 14th. We were now well to the westward of the Cape andwere changing our course to the northward as much as we dared, sincethe strong south-west winds, which prevailed then, carried us in towardPatagonia. At two, P. M. , we saw a sail on our larboard beam, and atfour we made it out to be a large ship, steering our course, undersingle-reefed topsails. We at that time had shaken the reefs out ofour topsails, as the wind was lighter, and set the main top-gallantsail. As soon as our captain saw what sail she was under, he set thefore top-gallant sail and flying jib; and the old whaler--for such, hisboats and short sail showed him to be--felt a little ashamed, and shookthe reefs out of his topsails, but could do no more, for he had sentdown his top-gallant masts off the Cape. He ran down for us, andanswered our hail as the whale-ship, New England, of Poughkeepsie, onehundred and twenty days from New York. Our captain gave our name, andadded, ninety-two days from Boston. They then had a little conversationabout longitude, in which they found that they could not agree. Theship fell astern, and continued in sight during the night. Towardmorning, the wind having become light, we crossed our royal and skysailyards, and at daylight we were seen under a cloud of sail, having royaland skysails fore and aft. The "spouter, " as the sailors call awhaleman, had sent up his main top-gallant mast and set the sail, andmade signal for us to heave to. About half-past seven their whale-boatcame alongside, and Captain Job Terry sprang on board, a man known inevery port and by every vessel in the Pacific ocean. "Don't you knowJob Terry? I thought everybody knew Job Terry, " said a green-hand, whocame in the boat, to me, when I asked him about his captain. He wasindeed a singular man. He was six feet high, wore thick, cowhideboots, and brown coat and trowsers, and, except a sun-burnt complexion, had not the slightest appearance of a sailor; yet he had been fortyyears in the whale trade, and, as he said himself, had owned ships, built ships, and sailed ships. His boat's crew were a pretty raw set, just out of the bush, and as the sailor's phrase is, "hadn't got thehayseed out of their hair. " Captain Terry convinced our captain thatour reckoning was a little out, and, having spent the day on board, putoff in his boat at sunset for his ship, which was now six or eightmiles astern. He began a "yarn" when he came on board, which lasted, with but little intermission, for four hours. It was all about himself, and the Peruvian government, and the Dublin frigate, and Lord JamesTownshend, and President Jackson, and the ship Ann M'Kim of Baltimore. It would probably never have come to an end, had not a good breezesprung up, which sent him off to his own vessel. One of the lads whocame in his boat, a thoroughly countrified-looking fellow, seemed tocare very little about the vessel, rigging, or anything else, but wentround looking at the live stock, and leaned over the pig-sty, and saidhe wished he was back again tending his father's pigs. 

At eight o'clock we altered our course to the northward, bound for JuanFernandez. 

This day we saw the last of the albatrosses, which had been ourcompanions a great part of the time off the Cape. I had beeninterested in the bird from descriptions which I had read of it, andwas not at all disappointed. We caught one or two with a baited hookwhich we floated astern upon a shingle. Their long, flapping wings, long legs, and large, staring eyes, give them a very peculiarappearance. They look well on the wing; but one of the finest sightsthat I have ever seen, was an albatross asleep upon the water, during acalm, off Cape Horn, when a heavy sea was running. There being nobreeze, the surface of the water was unbroken, but a long, heavy swellwas rolling, and we saw the fellow, all white, directly ahead of us, asleep upon the waves, with his head under his wing; now rising on thetop of a huge billow, and then falling slowly until he was lost in thehollow between. He was undisturbed for some time, until the noise ofour bows, gradually approaching, roused him, when, lifting his head, hestared upon us for a moment, and then spread his wide wings and tookhis flight. 

CHAPTER VI

LOSS OF A MAN--SUPERSTITION

Monday, Nov. 19th. This was a black day in our calendar. At seveno'clock in the morning, it being our watch below, we were aroused froma sound sleep by the cry of "All hands ahoy! a man overboard!" Thisunwonted cry sent a thrill through the heart of every one, and hurryingon deck we found the vessel hove flat aback, with all herstudding-sails set; for the boy who was at the helm left it to throwsomething overboard, and the carpenter, who was an old sailor, knowingthat the wind was light, put the helm down and hove her aback. Thewatch on deck were lowering away the quarter-boat, and I got on deckjust in time to heave myself into her as she was leaving the side; butit was not until out upon the wide Pacific, in our little boat, that Iknew whom we had lost. It was George Ballmer, a young English sailor, who was prized by the officers as an active lad and willing seaman, andby the crew as a lively, hearty fellow, and a good shipmate. He wasgoing aloft to fit a strap round the main top-mast-head, for ringtailhalyards, and had the strap and block, a coil of halyards and amarline-spike about his neck. He fell from the starboard futtockshrouds, and not knowing how to swim, and being heavily dressed, withall those things round his neck, he probably sank immediately. Wepulled astern, in the direction in which he fell, and though we knewthat there was no hope of saving him, yet no one wished to speak ofreturning, and we rowed about for nearly an hour, without the hope ofdoing anything, but unwilling to acknowledge to ourselves that we mustgive him up. At length we turned the boat's head and made towards thevessel. 

Death is at all times solemn, but never so much so as at sea. A mandies on shore; his body remains with his friends, and "the mourners goabout the streets;" but when a man falls overboard at sea and is lost, there is a suddenness in the event, and a difficulty in realizing it, which give to it an air of awful mystery. A man dies on shore--youfollow his body to the grave, and a stone marks the spot. You areoften prepared for the event. There is always something which helpsyou to realize it when it happens, and to recall it when it has passed. A man is shot down by your side in battle, and the mangled body remainsan object, and a real evidence; but at sea, the man is near you--atyour side--you hear his voice, and in an instant he is gone, andnothing but a vacancy shows his loss. Then, too, at sea--to use ahomely but expressive phrase--you miss a man so much. A dozen men areshut up together in a little bark, upon the wide, wide sea, and formonths and months see no forms and hear no voices but their own, andone is taken suddenly from among them, and they miss him at every turn. It is like losing a limb. There are no new faces or new scenes to fillup the gap. There is always an empty berth in the forecastle, and oneman wanting when the small night watch is mustered. There is one lessto take the wheel, and one less to lay out with you upon the yard. Youmiss his form, and the sound of his voice, for habit had made themalmost necessary to you, and each of your senses feels the loss. 

All these things make such a death peculiarly solemn, and the effect ofit remains upon the crew for some time. There is more kindness shownby the officers to the crew, and by the crew to one another. There ismore quietness and seriousness. The oath and the loud laugh are gone. The officers are more watchful, and the crew go more carefully aloft. The lost man is seldom mentioned, or is dismissed with a sailor's rudeeulogy--"Well, poor George is gone! His cruise is up soon! He knew hiswork, and did his duty, and was a good shipmate. " Then usually followssome allusion to another world, for sailors are almost all believers;but their notions and opinions are unfixed and at loose ends. Theysay, --"God won't be hard upon the poor fellow, " and seldom get beyondthe common phrase which seems to imply that their sufferings and hardtreatment here will excuse them hereafter, --"To work hard, live hard, die hard, and go to hell after all, would be hard indeed!" Our cook, asimple-hearted old African, who had been through a good deal in hisday, and was rather seriously inclined, always going to church twice aday when on shore, and reading his Bible on a Sunday in the galley, talked to the crew about spending their Sabbaths badly, and told themthat they might go as suddenly as George had, and be as little prepared. 

Yet a sailor's life is at best, but a mixture of a little good withmuch evil, and a little pleasure with much pain. The beautiful islinked with the revolting, the sublime with the commonplace, and thesolemn with the ludicrous. 

We had hardly returned on board with our sad report, before an auctionwas held of the poor man's clothes. The captain had first, however, called all hands aft and asked them if they were satisfied thateverything had been done to save the man, and if they thought there wasany use in remaining there longer. The crew all said that it was invain, for the man did not know how to swim, and was very heavilydressed. So we then filled away and kept her off to her course. 

The laws regulating navigation make the captain answerable for theeffects of a sailor who dies during the voyage, and it is either a lawor a universal custom, established for convenience, that the captainshould immediately hold an auction of his things, in which they are bidoff by the sailors, and the sums which they give are deducted fromtheir wages at the end of the voyage. In this way the trouble and riskof keeping his things through the voyage are avoided, and the clothesare usually sold for more than they would be worth on shore. Accordingly, we had no sooner got the ship before the wind, than hischest was brought up upon the forecastle, and the sale began. Thejackets and trowsers in which we had seen him dressed but a few daysbefore, were exposed and bid off while the life was hardly out of hisbody, and his chest was taken aft and used as a store-chest, so thatthere was nothing left which could be called his. Sailors have anunwillingness to wear a dead man's clothes during the same voyage, andthey seldom do so unless they are in absolute want. 

As is usual after a death, many stories were told about George. Somehad heard him say that he repented never having learned to swim, andthat he knew that he should meet his death by drowning. Another saidthat he never knew any good to come of a voyage made against the will, and the deceased man shipped and spent his advance and was afterwardsvery unwilling to go, but not being able to refund, was obliged to sailwith us. A boy, too, who had become quite attached to him, said thatGeorge talked to him during most of the watch on the night before, about his mother and family at home, and this was the first time thathe had mentioned the subject during the voyage. 

The night after this event, when I went to the galley to get a light, Ifound the cook inclined to be talkative, so I sat down on the spars, and gave him an opportunity to hold a yarn. I was the more inclined todo so, as I found that he was full of the superstitions once morecommon among seamen, and which the recent death had waked up in hismind. He talked about George's having spoken of his friends, and saidhe believed few men died without having a warning of it, which hesupported by a great many stories of dreams, and the unusual behaviorof men before death. From this he went on to other superstitions, theFlying Dutchman, etc. , and talked rather mysteriously, having somethingevidently on his mind. 

At length he put his head out of the galley and looked carefully aboutto see if any one was within hearing, and being satisfied on thatpoint, asked me in a low tone--

"I say! you know what countryman 'e carpenter be?"

"Yes, " said I; "he's a German. "

"What kind of a German?" said the cook. 

"He belongs to Bremen, " said I. 

"Are you sure o' dat?" said he. 

I satisfied him on that point by saying that he could speak no languagebut the German and English. 

"I'm plaguy glad o' dat, " said the cook. "I was mighty 'fraid he was aFin. I tell you what, I been plaguy civil to that man all the voyage. "

I asked him the reason of this, and found that he was fully possessedwith the notion that Fins are wizards, and especially have power overwinds and storms. I tried to reason with him about it, but he had thebest of all arguments, that from experience, at hand, and was not to bemoved. He had been in a vessel at the Sandwich Islands, in which thesail-maker was a Fin, and could do anything he was of a mind to. Thissail-maker kept a junk bottle in his berth, which was always just halffull of rum, though he got drunk upon it nearly every day. He had seenhim sit for hours together, talking to this bottle, which he stood upbefore him on the table. The same man cut his throat in his berth, andeverybody said he was possessed. 

He had heard of ships, too, beating up the gulf of Finland against ahead wind, and having a ship heave in sight astern, overhaul and passthem, with as fair a wind as could blow, and all studding-sails out, and find she was from Finland. 

"Oh ho!" said he; "I've seen too much of them men to want to see 'em'board a ship. If they can't have their own way, they'll play thed---l with you. "

As I still doubted, he said he would leave it to John, who was theoldest seaman aboard, and would know, if anybody did. John, to besure, was the oldest, and at the same time the most ignorant, man inthe ship; but I consented to have him called. The cook stated thematter to him, and John, as I anticipated, sided with the cook, andsaid that he himself had been in a ship where they had a head wind fora fortnight, and the captain found out at last that one of the men, whom he had had some hard words with a short time before, was a Fin, and immediately told him if he didn't stop the head wind he would shuthim down in the fore peak, and would not give him anything to eat. TheFin held out for a day and a half, when he could not stand it anylonger, and did something or other which brought the wind round again, and they let him up. 

"There, " said the cook, "what do you think o' dat?"

I told him I had no doubt it was true, and that it would have been oddif the wind had not changed in fifteen days, Fin or no Fin. 

"Oh, " says he, "go 'way! You think, 'cause you been to college, youknow better than anybody. You know better than them as 'as seen itwith their own eyes. You wait till you've been to sea as long as Ihave, and you'll know. "

CHAPTER VII

JUAN FERNANDEZ--THE PACIFIC

We continued sailing along with a fair wind and fine weather untilTuesday, Nov. 25th, when at daylight we saw the island of JuanFernandez, directly ahead, rising like a deep blue cloud out of thesea. We were then probably nearly seventy miles from it; and so highand so blue did it appear, that I mistook it for a cloud, resting overthe island, and looked for the island under it, until it graduallyturned to a deader and greener color, and I could mark the inequalitiesupon its surface. At length we could distinguish trees and rocks; andby the afternoon, this beautiful island lay fairly before us, and wedirected our course to the only harbor. Arriving at the entrance soonafter sun-down, we found a Chilian man-of-war brig, the only vessel, coming out. She hailed us, and an officer on board, whom we supposedto be an American, advised us to run in before night, and said thatthey were bound to Valparaiso. We ran immediately for the anchorage, but, owing to the winds which drew about the mountains and came to usin flaws from every point of the compass, we did not come to an anchoruntil nearly midnight. We had a boat ahead all the time that we wereworking in, and those aboard were continually bracing the yards aboutfor every puff that struck us, until about 12 o'clock, when we came-toin 40 fathoms water, and our anchor struck bottom for the first timesince we left Boston--one hundred and three days. We were then dividedinto three watches, and thus stood out the remainder of the night. 

I was called on deck to stand my watch at about three in the morning, and I shall never forget the peculiar sensation which I experienced onfinding myself once more surrounded by land, feeling the night breezecoming from off shore, and hearing the frogs and crickets. Themountains seemed almost to hang over us, and apparently from the veryheart there came out, at regular intervals, a loud echoing sound, whichaffected me as hardly human. We saw no lights, and could hardlyaccount for the sound, until the mate, who had been there before, toldus that it was the "Alerta" of the Spanish soldiers, who were stationedover some convicts confined in caves nearly halfway up the mountain. Atthe expiration of my watch I went below, feeling not a little anxiousfor the day, that I might see more nearly, and perhaps tread upon, thisromantic, I may almost say, classic island. 

When all hands were called it was nearly sunrise, and between that timeand breakfast, although quite busy on board in getting up water-casks, etc. , I had a good view of the objects about me. The harbor was nearlyland-locked, and at the head of it was a landing-place, protected by asmall breakwater of stones, upon which two large boats were hauled up, with a sentry standing over them. Near this was a variety of huts orcottages, nearly an hundred in number, the best of them built of mudand white washed, but the greater part only Robinson Crusoe like--ofposts and branches of trees. The governor's house, as it is called, was the most conspicuous, being large, with grated windows, plasteredwalls, and roof of red tiles; yet, like all the rest, only of onestory. Near it was a small chapel, distinguished by a cross; and along, low brown-looking building, surrounded by something like apalisade, from which an old and dingy-looking Chilian flag was flying. This, of course, was dignified by the title of Presidio. A sentinelwas stationed at the chapel, another at the governor's house, and a fewsoldiers armed with bayonets, looking rather ragged, with shoes out atthe toes, were strolling about among the houses, or waiting at thelanding-place for our boat to come ashore. 

The mountains were high, but not so overhanging as they appeared to beby starlight. They seemed to bear off towards the centre of theisland, and were green and well wooded, with some large, and, I amtold, exceedingly fertile valleys, with mule-tracks leading todifferent parts of the island. 

I cannot forget how my friend S---- and myself got the laugh of thecrew upon us for our eagerness to get on shore. The captain havingordered the quarter-boat to be lowered, we both sprang down into theforecastle, filled our jacket pockets with tobacco to barter with thepeople ashore, and when the officer called for "four hands in theboat, " nearly broke our necks in our haste to be first over the side, and had the pleasure of pulling ahead of the brig with a tow-line for ahalf an hour, and coming on board again to be laughed at by the crew, who had seen our manoeuvre. 

After breakfast the second mate was ordered ashore with five hands tofill the water-casks, and to my joy I was among the number. We pulledashore with the empty casks; and here again fortune favored me, for thewater was too thick and muddy to be put into the casks, and thegovernor had sent men up to the head of the stream to clear it out forus, which gave us nearly two hours of leisure. This leisure weemployed in wandering about among the houses, and eating a little fruitwhich was offered to us. Ground apples, melons, grapes, strawberries ofan enormous size, and cherries, abounded here. The latter are said tohave been planted by Lord Anson. The soldiers were miserably clad, andasked with some interest whether we had any shoes to sell on board. Idoubt very much if they had the means of buying them. They were veryeager to get tobacco, for which they gave shells, fruits, etc. Knivesalso were in demand, but we were forbidden by the governor to let anyone have them, as he told us that all the people there, except thesoldiers and a few officers, were convicts sent from Valparaiso, andthat it was necessary to keep all weapons from their hands. Theisland, it seems, belongs to Chili, and had been used by the governmentas a sort of Botany Bay for nearly two years; and the governor--anEnglishman who had entered the Chilian navy--with a priest, half adozen task-masters, and a body of soldiers, were stationed there tokeep them in order. This was no easy task; and only a few monthsbefore our arrival, a few of them had stolen a boat at night, boarded abrig lying in the harbor, sent the captain and crew ashore in theirboat, and gone off to sea. We were informed of this, and loaded ourarms and kept strict watch on board through the night, and were carefulnot to let the convicts get our knives from us when on shore. Theworst part of the convicts, I found, were locked up under sentry incaves dug into the side of the mountain, nearly halfway up, withmule-tracks leading to them, whence they were taken by day and set towork under task-masters upon building an aqueduct, a wharf, and otherpublic works; while the rest lived in the houses which they put up forthemselves, had their families with them, and seemed to me to be thelaziest people on the face of the earth. They did nothing but take apaseo into the woods, a paseo among the houses, a paseo at thelanding-place, looking at us and our vessel, and too lazy to speakfast; while the others were driving--or rather, driven--about, at arapid trot, in single file, with burdens on their shoulders, andfollowed up by their task-masters, with long rods in their hands, andbroadbrimmed straw hats upon their heads. Upon what precise groundsthis great distinction was made, I do not know, and I could not verywell know, for the governor was the only man who spoke English upon theisland, and he was out of my walk. 

Having filled our casks, we returned on board, and soon after, thegovernor, dressed in a uniform like that of an American militiaofficer, the Padre, in the dress of the grey friars, with hood and allcomplete, and the Capitan, with big whiskers and dirty regimentals, came on board to dine. While at dinner, a large ship appeared in theoffing, and soon afterwards we saw a light whale-boat pulling into theharbor. The ship lay off and on, and a boat came alongside of us, andput on board the captain, a plain young Quaker, dressed all in brown. The ship was the Cortes, whaleman, of New Bedford, and had put in tosee if there were any vessels from round the Horn, and to hear thelatest news from America. They remained aboard a short time and had alittle talk with the crew, when they left us and pulled off to theirship, which, having filled away, was soon out of sight. 

A small boat which came from the shore to take away the governor andsuite--as they styled themselves--brought, as a present to the crew, alarge pail of milk, a few shells, and a block of sandal wood. The milk, which was the first we had tasted since leaving Boston, we soondespatched; a piece of the sandal wood I obtained, and learned that itgrew on the hills in the centre of the island. I have always regrettedthat I did not bring away other specimens of the products of theisland, having afterwards lost all that I had with me--the piece ofsandal wood, and a small flower which I plucked and brought on board inthe crown of my tarpaulin, and carefully pressed between the leaves ofa book. 

About an hour before sun-down, having stowed our water casks, wecommenced getting under weigh, and were not a little while about it;for we were in thirty fathoms water, and in one of the gusts which cameoff shore had let go our other bow anchor; and as the southerly winddraws round the mountains and comes off in uncertain flaws, we werecontinually swinging round, and had thus got a very foul hawse. We hovein upon our chain, and after stoppering and unshackling it again andagain, and hoisting and hauling down sail, we at length tipped ouranchor and stood out to sea. It was bright starlight when we wereclear of the bay, and the lofty island lay behind us, in its stillbeauty, and I gave a parting look, and bid farewell, to the mostromantic spot of earth that my eyes had ever seen. I did then, and haveever since, felt an attachment for that island, altogether peculiar. It was partly, no doubt, from its having been the first land that I hadseen since leaving home, and still more from the associations whichevery one has connected with it in their childhood from readingRobinson Crusoe. To this I may add the height and romantic outline ofits mountains, the beauty and freshness of its verdure, and the extremefertility of its soil, and its solitary position in the midst of thewide expanse of the South Pacific, as all concurring to give it itspeculiar charm. 

When thoughts of this place have occurred to me at different times, Ihave endeavored to recall more particulars with regard to it. It issituated in about 33º 30' S. , and is distant a little more than threehundred miles from Valparaiso, on the coast of Chili, which is in thesame latitude. It is about fifteen miles in length and five inbreadth. The harbor in which we anchored (called by Lord Anson, Cumberland bay) is the only one in the island; two small bights of landon each side of the main bay (sometimes dignified by the name of bays)being little more than landing-places for boats. The best anchorage isat the western side of the bay, where we lay at about three cables'lengths from the shore, in a little more than thirty fathoms water. This harbor is open to the N. N. E. , and in fact nearly from N. To E. , but the only dangerous winds being the south-west, on which side arethe highest mountains, it is considered very safe. The most remarkablething perhaps about it is the fish with which it abounds. Two of ourcrew, who remained on board, caught in a few minutes enough to last usfor several days, and one of the men, who was a Marblehead man, saidthat he never saw or heard of such an abundance. There were cod, breams, silver-fish, and other kinds whose names they did not know, orwhich I have forgotten. 

There is an abundance of the best of water upon the island, smallstreams running through every valley, and leaping down from the sidesof the hills. One stream of considerable size flows through the centreof the lawn upon which the houses are built, and furnishes an easy andabundant supply to the inhabitants. This, by means of a short woodenaqueduct, was brought quite down to our boats. The convicts had alsobuilt something in the way of a breakwater, and were to build alanding-place for boats and goods, after which the Chilian governmentintended to lay port charges. 

Of the wood I can only say, that it appeared to be abundant; the islandin the month of November, when we were there, being in all thefreshness and beauty of spring, appeared covered with trees. These werechiefly aromatic, and the largest was the myrtle. The soil is veryloose and rich, and wherever it is broken up, there spring upimmediately radishes, turnips, ground apples, and other garden fruits. Goats, we were told, were not abundant, and we saw none, though it wassaid we might, if we had gone into the interior. We saw a few bullockswinding about in the narrow tracks upon the sides of the mountains, andthe settlement was completely overrun with dogs of every nation, kindred, and degree. Hens and chickens were also abundant, and seemedto be taken good care of by the women. The men appeared to be thelaziest people upon the face of the earth; and indeed, as far as myobservation goes, there are no people to whom the newly-invented Yankeeword of "loafer" is more applicable than to the Spanish Americans. These men stood about doing nothing, with their cloaks, little betterin texture than an Indian's blanket, but of rich colors, thrown overtheir shoulders with an air which it is said that a Spanish beggar canalways give to his rags; and with great politeness and courtesy intheir address, though with holes in their shoes and without a sou intheir pockets. The only interruption to the monotony of their dayseemed to be when a gust of wind drew round between the mountains andblew off the boughs which they had placed for roofs to their houses, and gave them a few minutes' occupation in running about after them. One of these gusts occurred while we were ashore, and afforded us nolittle amusement at seeing the men look round, and if they found thattheir roofs had stood, conclude that they might stand too, while thosewho saw theirs blown off, after uttering a few Spanish oaths, gatheredtheir cloaks over their shoulders, and started off after them. However, they were not gone long, but soon returned to their habitualoccupation of doing nothing. 

It is perhaps needless to say that we saw nothing of the interior; butall who have seen it, give very glowing accounts of it. Our captainwent with the governor and a few servants upon mules over themountains, and upon their return, I heard the governor request him tostop at the island on his passage home, and offer him a handsome sum tobring a few deer with him from California, for he said that there werenone upon the island, and he was very desirous of having it stocked. 

A steady, though light south-westerly wind carried us well off from theisland, and when I came on deck for the middle watch I could justdistinguish it from its hiding a few low stars in the southern horizon, though my unpracticed eyes would hardly have known it for land. At theclose of the watch a few trade-wind clouds which had arisen, though wewere hardly yet in their latitude, shut it out from our view, and thenext day, Thursday, Nov. 27th, upon coming on deck in the morning, we were againupon the wide Pacific, and saw no more land until we arrived upon thewestern coast of the great continent of America. 

CHAPTER VIII

"TARRING DOWN"--DAILY LIFE--"GOING AFT"--CALIFORNIA

As we saw neither land nor sail from the time of leaving Juan Fernandezuntil our arrival in California, nothing of interest occurred exceptour own doing on board. We caught the south-east trades, and runbefore them for nearly three weeks, without so much as altering a sailor bracing a yard. The captain took advantage of this fine weather toget the vessel in order for coming upon the coast. The carpenter wasemployed in fitting up a part of the steerage into a trade-room; forour cargo, we now learned, was not to be landed, but to be sold byretail from on board; and this trade-room was built for the samples andthe lighter goods to be kept in, and as a place for the generalbusiness. In the mean time we were employed in working upon therigging. Everything was set up taught, the lower rigging rattled down, or rather rattled up, (according to the modern fashion, ) an abundanceof spun-yarn and seizing-stuff made, and finally, the wholestanding-rigging, fore and aft, was tarred down. This was my firstessay at this latter business, and I had enough of it; for nearly allof it came upon my friend S---- and myself. The men were needed at theother work, and M----, the other young man who came out with us, waslaid up with the rheumatism in his feet, and the boy was rather tooyoung and small for the business; and as the winds were light andregular, he was kept during most of the daytime at the helm; so thatnearly all the tarring came upon us. We put on short duck frocks, andtaking a small bucket of tar and a bunch of oakum in our hands we wentaloft, one at the main royal-mast-head and the other at the fore, andbegan tarring down. This is an important operation, and is usuallydone about once in six months in vessels upon a long voyage. It wasdone in our vessel several times afterwards, but by the whole crew atonce, and finished off in a day; but at this time, as most of it cameupon two of us, and we were new at the business, it took us severaldays. In this operation they always begin at the mast-head and workdown, tarring the shrouds, back-stays, standing parts of the lifts, theties, runners, etc. , and go out to the yard-arms, and come in, tarring, as they come, the lifts and foot-ropes. Tarring the stays is moredifficult, and is done by an operation which the sailors call "ridingdown. " A long piece of rope--top-gallant-studding-sail halyards, orsomething of the kind--is taken up to the mast-head from which the stayleads, and rove through a block for a girt-line, or, as the sailorsusually call it, a gant-line; with the end of this a bowline is takenround the stay, into which the man gets with his bucket of tar and abunch of oakum, and the other end being fast on deck, with some one totend it, he is lowered down gradually, and tars the stay carefully ashe goes. There he "sings aloft 'twixt heaven and earth, " and if therope slips, breaks, or is let go, or if the bowline slips, he fallsoverboard or breaks his neck. This, however, is a thing which neverenters into a sailor's calculation. He thinks only of leaving noholydays, (places not tarred, ) for in case he should, he would have togo over the whole again; or of dropping no tar upon deck, for thenthere would be a soft word in his ear from the mate. In this manner Itarred down all the head-stays, but found the rigging about thejib-booms, martingale, and spritsail yard, upon which I was afterwardsput, the hardest. Here you have to hang on with your eye-lids and tarwith your hands. 

This dirty work could not last forever, and on Saturday night wefinished it, scraped all the spots from the deck and rails, and, whatwas of more importance to us, cleaned ourselves thoroughly, rolled upour tarry frocks and trowsers and laid them away for the next occasion, and put on our clean duck clothes, and had a good comfortable sailor'sSaturday night. The next day was pleasant, and indeed we had but oneunpleasant Sunday during the whole voyage, and that was off Cape Horn, where we could expect nothing better. On Monday we commenced painting, and getting the vessel ready for port. This work, too, is done by thecrew, and every sailor who has been long voyages is a little of apainter, in addition to his other accomplishments. We painted her, both inside and out, from the truck to the water's edge. The outsideis painted by lowering stages over the side by ropes, and on those wesat, with our brushes and paint-pots by us, and our feet half the timein the water. This must be done, of course, on a smooth day, when thevessel does not roll much. I remember very well being over the sidepainting in this way, one fine afternoon, our vessel going quietlyalong at the rate of four or five knots, and a pilot-fish, the sureprecursor of the shark, swimming alongside of us. The captain wasleaning over the rail watching him, and we quietly went on with ourwork. In the midst of our painting, on

Friday, Dec. 19th, we crossed the equator for the second time. I hadthe feeling which all have when, for the first time, they findthemselves living under an entire change of seasons; as, crossing theline under a burning sun in the midst of December, and, as I afterwardswas, beating about among ice and snow on the fourth of July. 

Thursday, Dec. 25th. This day was Christmas, but it brought us noholiday. The only change was that we had a "plum duff" for dinner, andthe crew quarrelled with the steward because he did not give us ourusual allowance of molasses to eat with it. He thought the plums wouldbe a substitute for the molasses, but we were not to be cheated out ofour rights in this way. 

Such are the trifles which produce quarrels on shipboard. In fact, wehad been too long from port. We were getting tired of one another, andwere in an irritable state, both forward and aft. Our fresh provisionswere, of course, gone, and the captain had stopped our rice, so that wehad nothing but salt beef and salt pork throughout the week, with theexception of a very small duff on Sunday. This added to thediscontent; and a thousand little things, daily and almost hourlyoccurring, which no one who has not himself been on a long and tediousvoyage can conceive of or properly appreciate, --little wars and rumorsof wars, --reports of things said in the cabin, --misunderstanding ofwords and looks, --apparent abuses, --brought us into a state in whicheverything seemed to go wrong. Every encroachment upon the timeallowed for rest, appeared unnecessary. Every shifting of thestudding-sails was only to "haze"[1] the crew. 

In this midst of this state of things, my messmate S---- and myselfpetitioned the captain for leave to shift our berths from the steerage, where we had previously lived, into the forecastle. This, to ourdelight, was granted, and we turned in to bunk and mess with the crewforward. We now began to feel like sailors, which we never fully didwhen we were in the steerage. While there, however useful and activeyou may be, you are but a mongrel, --and sort of afterguard and "ship'scousin. " You are immediately under the eye of the officers, cannotdance, sing, play, smoke, make a noise, or growl, (i. E. Complain, ) ortake any other sailor's pleasure; and you live with the steward, who isusually a go-between; and the crew never feel as though you were one ofthem. But if you live in the forecastle, you are "as independent as awood-sawyer's clerk, " (nautice', ) and are a sailor. You hear sailor'stalk, learn their ways, their peculiarities of feeling as well asspeaking and acting; and moreover pick up a great deal of curious anduseful information in seamanship, ship's customs, foreign countries, etc. , from their long yarns and equally long disputes. No man can be asailor, or know what sailors are, unless he has lived in the forecastlewith them--turned in and out with them, eaten of their dish and drankof their cup. After I had been a week there, nothing would havetempted me to go back to my old berth, and never afterwards, even inthe worst of weather, when in a close and leaking forecastle off CapeHorn, did I for a moment wish myself in the steerage. Another thingwhich you learn better in the forecastle than you can anywhere else, is, to make and mend clothes, and this is indispensable to sailors. Alarge part of their watches below they spend at this work, and here Ilearned that art which stood me in so good stead afterwards. 

But to return to the state of the crew. Upon our coming into theforecastle, there was some difficulty about the uniting of theallowances of bread, by which we thought we were to lose a few pounds. This set us into a ferment. The captain would not condescend toexplain, and we went aft in a body, with a Swede, the oldest and bestsailor of the crew, for spokesman. The recollection of the scene thatfollowed always brings up a smile, especially the quarter-deck dignityand eloquence of the captain. He was walking the weather side of thequarter-deck, and seeing us coming aft, stopped short in his walk, and, with a voice and look intended to annihilate us, called out, "Well, what do you want now?" Whereupon we stated our grievances asrespectfully as we could, but he broke in upon us, saying that we weregetting fat and lazy, didn't have enough to do, and that made us findfault. This provoked us, and we began to give word for word. Thiswould never answer. He clenched his fist, stamped and swore, and sentus all forward, saying, with oaths enough interspersed to send thewords home, --"Away with you! go forward every one of you! I'll hazeyou! I'll work you up! You don't have enough to do! You've mistakenyour man. I'm F---- T----, all the way from 'down east. ' I've beenthrough the mill, ground, and bolted, and come out a regular-builtdown-east johnny-cake, good when it's hot, but when it's cold, sour andindigestible;--and you'll find me so!" The latter part of the harangueI remember well, for it made a strong impression, and the "down-eastjohnny-cake" became a by-word for the rest of the voyage. So much forour petition for the redress of grievances. The matter was however setright, for the mate, after allowing the captain due time to cool off, explained it to him, and at night we were all called aft to hearanother harangue, in which, of course, the whole blame of themisunderstanding was thrown upon us. We ventured to hint that he wouldnot give us time to explain; but it wouldn't do. We were driven backdiscomforted. Thus the affair blew over, but the irritation caused byit remained; and we never had peace or a good understanding again solong as the captain and crew remained together. 

We continued sailing along in the beautiful temperate climate of thePacific. The Pacific well deserves its name, for except in thesouthern part, at Cape Horn, and in the western parts, near the Chinaand Indian oceans, it has few storms, and is never either extremely hotor cold. Between the tropics there is a slight haziness, like a thingauze, drawn over the sun, which, without obstructing or obscuring thelight, tempers the heat which comes down with perpendicular fiercenessin the Atlantic and Indian tropics. We sailed well to the westward tohave the full advantage of the north-east trades, and when we hadreached the latitude of Point Conception, where it is usual to make theland, we were several hundred miles to the westward of it. Weimmediately changed our course due east, and sailed in that directionfor a number of days. At length we began to heave-to after dark, forfear of making the land at night on a coast where there are nolight-houses and but indifferent charts, and at daybreak on the morningof

Tuesday, Jan 13th, 1835, we made the land at Point Conception, lat 34º32' N. , long 120º 06' W. The port of Santa Barbara, to which we werebound, lying about sixty miles to the southward of this point, wecontinued sailing down the coast during the day and following night, and on the next morning, Jan. 14th, 1835, we came to anchor in the spacious bay of SantaBarbara, after a voyage of one hundred and fifty days from Boston. 

[1] Haze is a word of frequent use on board ship, and never, I believe, used elsewhere. It is very expressive to a sailor, and means to punishby hard work. Let an officer once say, "I'll haze you, " and your fateis fixed. You will be "worked up, " if you are not a better man than heis. 

CHAPTER IX

CALIFORNIA--A SOUTH-EASTER

California extends along nearly the whole of the western coast ofMexico, between the gulf of California in the south and the bay of SirFrancis Drake on the north, or between the 22d and 38th degrees ofnorth latitude. It is subdivided into two provinces--Lower or OldCalifornia, lying between the gulf and the 32d degree of latitude, ornear it; (the division line running, I believe, between the bay ofTodos Santos and the port of San Diego;) and New or Upper California, the southernmost port of which is San Diego, in lat. 32º 39', and thenorthernmost, San Francisco, situated in the large bay discovered bySir Francis Drake, in lat. 37º 58', and called after him by theEnglish, though the Mexicans call it Yerba Buena. Upper California hasthe seat of its government at Monterey, where is also the custom-house, the only one on the coast, and at which every vessel intending to tradeon the coast must enter its cargo before it can commence its traffic. We were to trade upon this coast exclusively, and therefore expected togo to Monterey at first; but the captain's orders from home were to putin at Santa Barbara, which is the central port of the coast, and waitthere for the agent who lives there, and transacts all the business forthe firm to which our vessel belonged. 

The bay, or, as it was commonly called, the canal of Santa Barbara, isvery large, being formed by the main land on one side, (between PointConception on the north and Point St. Buena Ventura on the south, )which here bends in like a crescent, and three large islands oppositeto it and at the distance of twenty miles. This is just sufficient togive it the name of a bay, while at the same time it is so large and somuch exposed to the south-east and north-west winds, that it is littlebetter than an open roadstead; and the whole swell of the Pacific oceanrolls in here before a southeaster, and breaks with so heavy a surf inthe shallow waters, that it is highly dangerous to lie near to theshore during the south-easter season; that is, between the months ofNovember and April. 

This wind (the south-easter) is the bane of the coast of California. Between the months of November and April, (including a part of each, )which is the rainy season in this latitude, you are never safe from it, and accordingly, in the ports which are open to it, vessels areobliged, during these months, to lie at anchor at a distance of threemiles from the shore, with slip-ropes on their cables, ready to slipand go to sea at a moment's warning. The only ports which are safefrom this wind are San Francisco and Monterey in the north, and SanDiego in the south. 

As it was January when we arrived, and the middle of the south-easterseason, we accordingly came to anchor at the distance of three milesfrom the shore, in eleven fathoms water, and bent a slip-rope and buoysto our cables, cast off the yard-arm gaskets from the sails, andstopped them all with rope-yarns. After we had done this, the boatwent ashore with the captain, and returned with orders to the mate tosend a boat ashore for him at sundown. I did not go in the first boat, and was glad to find that there was another going before night; forafter so long a voyage as ours had been, a few hours is long to pass insight and out of reach of land. We spent the day on board in the usualavocations; but as this was the first time we had been without thecaptain, we felt a little more freedom, and looked about us to see whatsort of a country we had got into, and were to spend a year or two ofour lives in. 

In the first place, it was a beautiful day, and so warm that we had onstraw hats, duck trowsers, and all the summer gear; and as this wasmid-winter, it spoke well for the climate; and we afterwards found thatthe thermometer never fell to the freezing-point throughout the winter, and that there was very little difference between the seasons, exceptthat during a long period of rainy and south-easterly weather, thickclothes were not uncomfortable. 

The large bay lay about us, nearly smooth, as there was hardly a breathof wind stirring, though the boat's crew who went ashore told us thatthe long ground swell broke into a heavy surf upon the beach. There wasonly one vessel in the port--a long, sharp brig of about 300 tons, withraking masts and very square yards, and English colors at her peak. Weafterwards learned that she was built at Guayaquil, and named theAyacucho, after the place where the battle was fought that gave Peruher independence, and was now owned by a Scotchman named Wilson, whocommanded her, and was engaged in the trade between Callao, theSandwich Islands, and California. She was a fast sailer, as wefrequently afterwards perceived, and had a crew of Sandwich Islanderson board. Beside this vessel there was no object to break the surfaceof the bay. Two points ran out as the horns of the crescent, one ofwhich--the one to the westward--was low and sandy, and is that to whichvessels are obliged to give a wide berth when running out for asouth-easter; the other is high, bold, and well wooded, and, we weretold, has a mission upon it, called St. Buenaventura, from which thepoint is named. In the middle of this crescent, directly opposite theanchoring ground, lie the mission and town of Santa Barbara, on a low, flat plain, but little above the level of the sea, covered with grass, though entirely without trees, and surrounded on three sides by anamphitheatre of mountains, which slant off to the distance of fifteenor twenty miles. The mission stands a little back of the town, and isa large building, or rather a collection of buildings, in the centre ofwhich is a high tower, with a belfry of five bells; and the whole, being plastered, makes quite a show at a distance, and is the mark bywhich vessels come to anchor. The town lies a little nearer to thebeach--about half a mile from it--and is composed of one-story housesbuilt of brown clay--some of them plastered--with red tiles on theroofs. I should judge that there were about an hundred of them; and inthe midst of them stands the Presidio, or fort, built of the samematerials, and apparently but little stronger. The town is certainlyfinely situated, with a bay in front, and an amphitheatre of hillsbehind. The only thing which diminishes its beauty is, that the hillshave no large trees upon them, they having been all burnt by a greatfire which swept them off about a dozen years before, and they had notyet grown up again. The fire was described to me by an inhabitant, ashaving been a very terrible and magnificent sight. The air of the wholevalley was so heated that the people were obliged to leave the town andtake up their quarters for several days upon the beach. 

Just before sun-down the mate ordered a boat's crew ashore, and I wentas one of the number. We passed under the stern of the English brig, and had a long pull ashore. I shall never forget the impression whichour first landing on the beach of California made upon me. The sun hadjust gone down; it was getting dusky; the damp night wind was beginningto blow, and the heavy swell of the Pacific was setting in, andbreaking in loud and high "combers" upon the beach. We lay on our oarsin the swell, just outside of the surf, waiting for a good chance torun in, when a boat, which had put off from the Ayacucho just after us, came alongside of us, with a crew of dusky Sandwich Islanders, talkingand halooing in their outlandish tongue. They knew that we werenovices in this kind of boating, and waited to see us go in. The secondmate, however, who steered our boat, determined to have the advantageof their experience, and would not go in first. Finding, at length, howmatters stood, they gave a shout, and taking advantage of a greatcomber which came swelling in, rearing its head, and lifting up thestern of our boat nearly perpendicular, and again dropping it in thetrough, they gave three or four long and strong pulls, and went in ontop of the great wave, throwing their oars overboard, and as far fromthe boat as they could throw them, and jumping out the instant that theboat touched the beach, and then seizing hold of her and running her uphigh and dry upon the sand. We saw, at once, how it was to be done, and also the necessity of keeping the boat "stern on" to the sea; forthe instant the sea should strike upon her broad-side or quarter, shewould be driven up broad-side-on, and capsized. We pulled strongly in, and as soon as we felt that the sea had got hold of us and was carryingus in with the speed of a race-horse, we threw the oars as far from theboat as we could, and took hold of the gunwale, ready to spring out andseize her when she struck, the officer using his utmost strength tokeep her stern on. We were shot up upon the beach like an arrow from abow, and seizing the boat, ran her up high and dry, and soon picked upour oars, and stood by her, ready for the captain to come down. 

Finding that the captain did not come immediately, we put our oars inthe boat, and leaving one to watch it, walked about the beach to seewhat we could, of the place. The beach is nearly a mile in lengthbetween the two points, and of smooth sand. We had taken the only goodlanding-place, which is in the middle; it being more stony toward theends. It is about twenty yards in width from high-water mark to aslight bank at which the soil begins, and so hard that it is a favoriteplace for running horses. It was growing dark, so that we could justdistinguish the dim outlines of the two vessels in the offing; and thegreat seas were rolling in, in regular lines, growing larger and largeras they approached the shore, and hanging over the beach upon whichthey were to break, when their tops would curl over and turn white withfoam, and, beginning at one extreme of the line, break rapidly to theother, as a long card-house falls when the children knock down thecards at one end. The Sandwich Islanders, in the mean time, had turnedtheir boat round, and ran her down into the water, and were loading herwith hides and tallow. As this was the work in which we were soon tobe engaged, we looked on with some curiosity. They ran the boat intothe water so far that every large sea might float her, and two of them, with their trowsers rolled up, stood by the bows, one on each side, keeping her in her right position. This was hard work; for beside theforce they had to use upon the boat, the large seas nearly took themoff their legs. The others were running from the boat to the bank, upon which, out of the reach of the water, was a pile of dry bullocks'hides, doubled lengthwise in the middle, and nearly as stiff as boards. These they took upon their heads, one or two at a time, and carrieddown to the boat, where one of their number stowed them away. Theywere obliged to carry them on their heads, to keep them out of thewater, and we observed that they had on thick woolen caps. "Look here, Bill, and see what you're coming to!" said one of our men to anotherwho stood by the boat. "Well, D----, " said the second mate to me, "this does not look much like Cambridge college, does it? This is whatI call 'head work. '" To tell the truth, it did not look veryencouraging. 

After they had got through with the hides, they laid hold of the bagsof tallow, (the bags are made of hide, and are about the size of acommon meal bag, ) and lifting each upon the shoulders of two men, oneat each end, walked off with them to the boat, and prepared to goaboard. Here, too, was something for us to learn. The man whosteered, shipped his oar and stood up in the stern, and those thatpulled the after oars sat upon their benches, with their oars shipped, ready to strike out as soon as she was afloat. The two men at the bowskept their places; and when, at length, a large sea came in and floatedher, seized hold of the gunwale, and ran out with her till they were upto their armpits, and then tumbled over the gunwale into the bows, dripping with water. The men at the oars struck out, but it wouldn'tdo; the sea swept back and left them nearly high and dry. The twofellows jumped out again; and the next time they succeeded better, and, with the help of a deal of outlandish hallooing and bawling, got herwell off. We watched them till they were out of the breakers, and sawthem steering for their vessel, which was now hidden in the darkness. 

The sand of the beach began to be cold to our bare feet; the frogs setup their croaking in the marshes, and one solitary owl, from the end ofthe distant point, gave out his melancholy note, mellowed by thedistance, and we began to think that it was high time for "the oldman, " as the captain is generally called, to come down. In a fewminutes we heard something coming towards us. It was a man onhorseback. He came up on the full gallop, reined up near us, addresseda few words to us, and receiving no answer, wheeled around and gallopedoff again. He was nearly as dark as an Indian, with a large Spanishhat, blanket cloak or surreppa, and leather leggins, with a long knifestuck in them. "This is the seventh city that ever I was in, and noChristian one neither, " said Bill Brown. "Stand by!" said Tom, "youhaven't seen the worst of it yet. " In the midst of this conversationthe captain appeared; and we winded the boat round, shoved her down, and prepared to go off. The captain, who had been on the coast beforeand "knew the ropes, " took the steering oar, and we went off in thesame way as the other boat. I, being the youngest, had the pleasure ofstanding at the bow, and getting wet through. We went off well, thoughthe seas were high. Some of them lifted us up, and sliding from underus, seemed to let us drop through the air like a flat plank upon thebody of the water. In a few minutes we were in the low, regular swell, and pulled for a light, which, as we came up, we found had been run upto our trysail gaff. 

Coming aboard, we hoisted up all the boats, and diving down into theforecastle, changed our wet clothes, and got our supper. After supperthe sailors lighted their pipes, (cigars, those of us who had them, )and we had to tell all we had seen ashore. Then followed conjecturesabout the people ashore, the length of the voyage, carrying hides, etc. , until eight bells, when all hands were called aft, and the"anchor watch" set. We were to stand two in a watch, and as the nightswere pretty long, two hours were to make a watch. The second mate wasto keep the deck until eight o'clock, and all hands were to be calledat daybreak, and the word was passed to keep a bright look-out, and tocall the mate if it should come on to blow from the south-east. We hadalso orders to strike the bells every half-hour through the night, asat sea. My watchmate was John, the Swedish sailor, and we stood fromtwelve to two, he walking the larboard side, and I the starboard. Atdaylight all hands were called, and we went through the usual processof washing down, swabbing, etc. , and got breakfast at eight o'clock. In the course of the forenoon, a boat went aboard of the Ayacucho andbrought off a quarter of beef, which made us a fresh bite for dinner. This we were glad enough to have, and the mate told us that we shouldlive upon fresh beef while we were on the coast, as it was cheaper herethan the salt. While at dinner, the cook called, "Sail ho!" and comingon deck, we saw two sails coming round the point. One was a large shipunder top-gallant sails, and the other a small hermaphrodite brig. They both backed their topsails and sent boats aboard of us. Theship's colors had puzzled us, and we found that she was from Genoa, with an assorted cargo, and was trading on the coast. She filled awayagain, and stood out; being bound up the coast to San Francisco. Thecrew of the brig's boat were Sandwich Islanders, but one of them, whospoke a little English, told us that she was the Loriotte, Captain Nye, from Oahu, and was engaged in this trade. She was a lump of athing--what the sailors call a butter-box. This vessel, as well as theAyacucho, and others which we afterwards saw engaged in the same trade, have English or Americans for officers, and two or three before themast to do the work upon the rigging, and to rely upon for seamanship, while the rest of the crew are Sandwich Islanders, who are active, andvery useful in boating. 

The three captains went ashore after dinner, and came off again atnight. When in port, everything is attended to by the chief mate; thecaptain, unless he is also supercargo, has little to do, and is usuallyashore much of his time. This we thought would be pleasanter for us, as the mate was a good-natured man and not very strict. So it was for atime, but we were worse off in the end; for wherever the captain is asevere, energetic man, and the mate is wanting in both these qualities, there will always be trouble. And trouble we had already begun toanticipate. The captain had several times found fault with the mate, in presence of the crew; and hints had been dropped that all was notright between them. When this is the case, and the captain suspectsthat his officer is too easy and familiar with the crew, then he beginsto interfere in all the duties, and to draw the reins taughter, and thecrew have to suffer. 

CHAPTER X

A SOUTH-EASTER--PASSAGE UP THE COAST

This night, after sundown, it looked black at the southward andeastward, and we were told to keep a bright look-out. Expecting to becalled up, we turned in early. Waking up about midnight, I found a manwho had just come down from his watch, striking a light. He said thatit was beginning to puff up from the south-east, and that the sea wasrolling in, and he had called the captain; and as he threw himself downon his chest with all his clothes on, I knew that he expected to becalled. I felt the vessel pitching at her anchor, and the chainsurging and snapping, and lay awake, expecting an instant summons. Ina few minutes it came--three knocks on the scuttle, and "All handsahoy! bear-a-hand up and make sail. " We sprang up for our clothes, andwere about halfway dressed, when the mate called out, down the scuttle, "Tumble up here, men! tumble up! before she drags her anchor. " We wereon deck in an instant. "Lay aloft and loose the topsails!" shouted thecaptain, as soon as the first man showed himself. Springing into therigging, I saw that the Ayacucho's topsails were loosed, and heard hercrew singing-out at the sheets as they were hauling them home. Thishad probably started our captain; as "old Wilson" (the captain of theAyacucho) had been many years on the coast, and knew the signs of theweather. We soon had the topsails loosed; and one hand remaining, asusual, in each top, to overhaul the rigging and light the sail out, therest of us laid down to man the sheets. While sheeting home, we sawthe Ayacucho standing athwart our bows, sharp upon the wind, cuttingthrough the head sea like a knife, with her raking masts and sharp bowsrunning up like the head of a greyhound. It was a beautiful sight. She was like a bird which had been frightened and had spread her wingsin flight. After the topsails had been sheeted home, the head yardsbraced aback, the fore-top-mast staysail hoisted, and the buoysstreamed, and all ready forward, for slipping, we went aft and mannedthe slip-rope which came through the stern port with a turn round thetimber-heads. "All ready forward?" asked the captain. "Aye, aye, sir;all ready, " answered the mate. "Let go!" "All gone, sir;" and theiron cable grated over the windlass and through the hawse-hole, and thelittle vessel's head swinging off from the wind under the force of herbacked head sails, brought the strain upon the slip-rope. "Let goaft!" Instantly all was gone, and we were under weigh. As soon as shewas well off from the wind, we filled away the head yards, braced allup sharp, set the foresail and trysail, and left our anchorage wellastern, giving the point a good berth. "Nye's off too, " said thecaptain to the mate; and looking astern, we could just see the littlehermaphrodite brig under sail standing after us. 

It now began to blow fresh; the rain fell fast, and it grew very black;but the captain would not take in sail until we were well clear of thepoint. As soon as we left this on our quarter, and were standing outto sea, the order was given, and we sprang aloft, double reefed eachtopsail, furled the foresail, and double reefed the trysail, and weresoon under easy sail. In those cases of slipping for south-easters, there is nothing to be done, after you have got clear of the coast, butto lie-to under easy sail, and wait for the gale to be over, whichseldom lasts more than two days, and is often over in twelve hours; butthe wind never comes back to the southward until there has been a gooddeal of rain fallen. "Go below the watch, " said the mate; but here wasa dispute which watch it should be, which the mate soon however settledby sending his watch below, saying that we should have our turn thenext time we got under weigh. We remained on deck till the expirationof the watch, the wind blowing very fresh and the rain coming down intorrents. When the watch came up, we wore ship, and stood on the othertack, in towards land. When we came up again, which was at four in themorning, it was very dark, and there was not much wind, but it wasraining as I thought I had never seen it rain before. We had onoil-cloth suits and south-wester caps, and had nothing to do but tostand bolt upright and let it pour down upon us. There are noumbrellas, and no sheds to go under, at sea. 

While we were standing about on deck, we saw the little brig driftingby us, hove to under her fore topsail double reefed; and she glided bylike a phantom. Not a word was spoken, and we saw no one on deck butthe man at the wheel. Toward morning the captain put his head out ofthe companion-way and told the second mate, who commanded our watch, tolook out for a change of wind, which usually followed a calm and heavyrain; and it was well that he did; for in a few minutes it fell deadcalm, the vessel lost her steerage-way, and the rain ceased. We hauledup the trysail and courses, squared the after yards, and waited for thechange, which came in a few minutes, with a vengeance, from thenorth-west, the opposite point of the compass. Owing to ourprecautions, we were not taken aback, but ran before the wind withsquare yards. The captain coming on deck, we braced up a little andstood back for our anchorage. With the change of wind came a change ofweather, and in two hours the wind moderated into the light steadybreeze, which blows down the coast the greater part of the year, and, from its regularity, might be called a trade-wind. The sun came upbright, and we set royals, skysails, and studding-sails, and were underfair way for Santa Barbara. The little Loriotte was astern of us, nearly out of sight; but we saw nothing of the Ayacucho. In a shorttime she appeared, standing out from Santa Rosa Island, under the leeof which she had been hove to, all night. Our captain was anxious toget in before her, for it would be a great credit to us, on the coast, to beat the Ayacucho, which had been called the best sailer in theNorth Pacific, in which she had been known as a trader for six years ormore. We had an advantage over her in light winds, from our royals andskysails which we carried both at the fore and main, and also in ourstudding-sails; for Captain Wilson carried nothing abovetop-gallant-sails, and always unbent his studding-sails when on thecoast. As the wind was light and fair, we held our own, for some time, when we were both obliged to brace up and come upon a taught bowline, after rounding the point; and here he had us on fair ground, and walkedaway from us, as you would haul in a line. He afterwards said that wesailed well enough with the wind free, but that give him a taughtbowline, and he would beat us, if we had all the canvas of the RoyalGeorge. 

The Ayacucho got to the anchoring ground about half an hour before us, and was furling her sails when we came up to it. This picking up yourcables is a very nice piece of work. It requires some seamanship to doit, and come to at your former moorings, without letting go anotheranchor. Captain Wilson was remarkable, among the sailors on the coast, for his skill in doing this; and our captain never let go a secondanchor during all the time that I was with him. Coming a little towindward of our buoy, we clewed up the light sails, backed our maintopsail, and lowered a boat, which pulled off, and made fast a sparehawser to the buoy on the end of the slip-rope. We brought the otherend to the captain, and hove in upon it until we came to the slip-rope, which we took to the windlass, and walked her up to her chain, thecaptain helping her by backing and filling the sails. The chain isthen passed through the hawse-hole and round the windlass, and bitted, the slip-rope taken round outside and brought into the stern port, andshe is safe in her old berth. After we had got through, the mate toldus that this was a small touch of California, the like of which we mustexpect to have through the winter. 

After we had furled the sails and got dinner, we saw the Loriottenearing, and she had her anchor before night. At sun-down we wentashore again, and found the Loriotte's boat waiting on the beach. TheSandwich Islander who could speak English, told us that he had been upto the town; that our agent, Mr. R----, and some other passengers, weregoing to Monterey with us, and that we were to sail the same night. Ina few minutes Captain T----, with two gentlemen and one female, camedown, and we got ready to go off. They had a good deal of baggage, which we put into the bows of the boat, and then two of us took theseñora in our arms, and waded with her through the water, and put herdown safely in the stern. She appeared much amused with thetransaction, and her husband was perfectly satisfied, thinking anyarrangement good which saved his wetting his feet. I pulled the afteroar, so that I heard the conversation, and learned that one of the men, who, as well as I could see in the darkness, was a young-looking man, in the European dress, and covered up in a large cloak, was the agentof the firm to which our vessel belonged; and the other, who wasdressed in the Spanish dress of the country, was a brother of ourcaptain, who had been many years a trader on the coast, and had marriedthe lady who was in the boat. She was a delicate, dark-complexionedyoung woman, and of one of the best families in California. I alsofound that we were to sail the same night. As soon as we got on board, the boats were hoisted up, the sails loosed, the windlass manned, theslip-ropes and gear cast off; and after about twenty minutes of heavingat the windlass, making sail, and bracing yards, we were well underweigh, and going with a fair wind up the coast to Monterey. TheLoriotte got under weigh at the same time, and was also bound up toMonterey, but as she took a different course from us, keeping the landaboard, while we kept well out to sea, we soon lost sight of her. Wehad a fair wind, which is something unusual when going up, as theprevailing wind is the north, which blows directly down the coast;whence the northern are called the windward, and the southern theleeward ports. 

CHAPTER XI

PASSAGE UP THE COAST--MONTEREY

We got clear of the islands before sunrise the next morning, and bytwelve o'clock were out of the canal, and off Point Conception, theplace where we first made the land upon our arrival. This is thelargest point on the coast, and is uninhabited headland, stretching outinto the Pacific, and has the reputation of being very windy. Anyvessel does well which gets by it without a gale, especially in thewinter season. We were going along with studding-sails set on bothsides, when, as we came round the point, we had to haul our wind, andtake in the lee studding-sails. As the brig came more upon the wind, she felt it more, and we doused the sky-sails, but kept the weatherstudding-sails on her, bracing the yards forward so that theswinging-boom nearly touched the sprit-sail yard. She now lay over toit, the wind was freshening, and the captain was evidently "dragging onto her. " His brother and Mr. R----, looking a little squally, saidsomething to him, but he only answered that he knew the vessel and whatshe would carry. He was evidently showing off his vessel, and lettingthem know how he could carry sail. He stood up to windward, holding onby the backstays, and looking up at the sticks, to see how much theywould bear; when a puff came which settled the matter. Then it was"haul down, " and "clew up, " royals, flying-jib, and studding-sails, allat once. There was what the sailors call a "mess"--everything let go, nothing hauled in, and everything flying. The poor Spanish woman cameto the companion-way, looking as pale as a ghost, and nearly frightenedto death. The mate and some men forward were trying to haul in thelower studding-sail, which had blown over the sprit-sail yard-arm andround the guys; while the topmast-studding-sail boom, after buckling upand springing out again like a piece of whalebone, broke off at theboom-iron. I sprang aloft to take in the main top-gallantstudding-sail, but before I got into the top, the tack parted, and awaywent the sail, swinging forward of the top-gallant-sail, and tearingand slatting itself to pieces. The halyards were at this moment let goby the run; and such a piece of work I never had before, in taking in asail. After great exertions I got it, or the remains of it, into thetop, and was making it fast, when the captain, looking up, called outto me, "Lay aloft there, D----, and furl that main royal. " Leaving thestudding-sail, I went up to the cross trees; and here it looked rathersqually. The foot of the top-gallant-mast was working between thecross and trussel trees, and the royal-mast lay over at a fearful anglewith the mast below, while everything was working, and cracking, strained to the utmost. 

There's nothing for Jack to do but to obey orders, and I went up uponthe yard; and there was a worse "mess, " if possible, than I had leftbelow. The braces had been let go, and the yard was swinging aboutlike a turnpike-gate, and the whole sail having blown over to leeward, the lee leach was over the yard-arm, and the sky-sail was all adriftand flying over my head. I looked down, but it was in vain to attemptto make myself heard, for every one was busy below, and the windroared, and sails were flapping in every direction. Fortunately, it wasnoon and broad daylight, and the man at the wheel, who had his eyesaloft, soon saw my difficulty, and after numberless signs and gestures, got some one to haul the necessary ropes taught. During this interval Itook a look below. Everything was in confusion on deck; the littlevessel was tearing through the water as if she were mad, the seasflying over her, and the masts leaning over at an angle of forty-fivedegrees from the vertical. At the other royal-mast-head was S----, working away at the sail, which was blowing from him as fast as hecould gather it in. The top-gallant-sail below me was soon clewed up, which relieved the mast, and in a short time I got my sail furled, andwent below; but I lost overboard a new tarpaulin hat, which troubled memore than anything else. We worked for about half an hour with mightand main; and in an hour from the time the squall struck us, fromhaving all our flying kites abroad, we came down to double-reefedtop-sails and the storm-sails. 

The wind had hauled ahead during the squall, and we were standingdirectly in for the point. So, as soon as we had got all snug, we woreround and stood off again, and had the pleasant prospect of beating upto Monterey, a distance of an hundred miles, against a violent headwind. Before night it began to rain; and we had five days of rainy, stormy weather, under close sail all the time, and were blown severalhundred miles off the coast. In the midst of this, we discovered thatour fore topmast was sprung, (which no doubt happened in the squall, )and were obliged to send down the fore top-gallant-mast and carry aslittle sail as possible forward. Our four passengers were dreadfullysick, so that we saw little or nothing of them during the five days. On the sixth day it cleared off, and the sun came out bright, but thewind and sea were still very high. It was quite like being at seaagain: no land for hundreds of miles, and the captain taking the sunevery day at noon. Our passengers now made their appearance, and I hadfor the first time the opportunity of seeing what a miserable andforlorn creature a sea-sick passenger is. Since I had got over my ownsickness, the third day from Boston, I had seen nothing but hale, hearty men, with their sea legs on, and able to go anywhere, (for wehad no passengers;) and I will own there was a pleasant feeling ofsuperiority in being able to walk the deck, and eat, and go about, andcomparing one's self with two poor, miserable, pale creatures, staggering and shuffling about decks, or holding on and looking up withgiddy heads, to see us climbing to the mast-heads, or sitting quietlyat work on the ends of the lofty yards. A well man at sea has littlesympathy with one who is seasick; he is too apt to be conscious of acomparison favorable to his own manhood. After a few days we made theland at Point Pinos, (pines, ) which is the headland at the entrance ofthe bay of Monterey. As we drew in, and ran down the shore, we coulddistinguish well the face of the country, and found it better woodedthan that to the southward of Point Conception. In fact, as Iafterwards discovered, Point Conception may be made the dividing linebetween two different faces of the country. As you go to the northwardof the point, the country becomes more wooded, has a richer appearance, and is better supplied with water. This is the case with Monterey, andstill more so with San Francisco; while to the southward of the point, as at Santa Barbara, San Pedro, and particularly San Diego, there isvery little wood, and the country has a naked, level appearance, thoughit is still very fertile. 

The bay of Monterey is very wide at the entrance, being abouttwenty-four miles between the two points, Año Nuevo at the north, andPinos at the south, but narrows gradually as you approach the town, which is situated in a bend, or large cove, at the south-easternextremity, and about eighteen miles from the points, which makes thewhole depth of the bay. The shores are extremely well wooded, (thepine abounding upon them, ) and as it was now the rainy season, everything was as green as nature could make it, --the grass, theleaves, and all; the birds were singing in the woods, and great numbersof wild-fowl were flying over our heads. Here we could lie safe fromthe south-easters. We came to anchor within two cable lengths of theshore, and the town lay directly before us, making a very prettyappearance; its houses being plastered, which gives a much bettereffect than those of Santa Barbara, which are of a mud-color. The redtiles, too, on the roofs, contrasted well with the white plasteredsides and with the extreme greenness of the lawn upon which thehouses--about an hundred in number--were dotted about, here and there, irregularly. There are in this place, and in every other town which Isaw in California, no streets, or fences, (except here and there asmall patch was fenced in for a garden, ) so that the houses are placedat random upon the green, which, as they are of one story and of thecottage form, gives them a pretty effect when seen from a littledistance. 

It was a fine Saturday afternoon when we came to anchor, the sun aboutan hour high, and everything looking pleasantly. The Mexican flag wasflying from the little square Presidio, and the drums and trumpets ofthe soldiers, who were out on parade, sounded over the water, and gavegreat life to the scene. Every one was delighted with the appearanceof things. We felt as though we had got into a Christian (which in thesailor's vocabulary means civilized) country. The first impressionwhich California had made upon us was very disagreeable:--the openroadstead of Santa Barbara; anchoring three miles from the shore;running out to sea before every south-easter; landing in a high surf;with a little dark-looking town, a mile from the beach; and not a soundto be heard, or anything to be seen, but Sandwich Islanders, hides, andtallow-bags. Add to this the gale off Point Conception, and no one canbe at a loss to account for our agreeable disappointment in Monterey. Beside all this, we soon learned, which was of no small importance tous, that there was little or no surf here, and this afternoon the beachwas as smooth as a duck-pond. 

We landed the agent and passengers, and found several persons waitingfor them on the beach, among whom were some, who, though dressed in thecostume of the country, spoke English; and who, we afterwards learned, were English and Americans who had married and settled in the country. 

I also connected with our arrival here another circumstance which morenearly concerns myself; viz, my first act of what the sailors willallow to be seamanship--sending down a royal-yard. I had seen it doneonce or twice at sea, and an old sailor, whose favor I had taken somepains to gain, had taught me carefully everything which was necessaryto be done, and in its proper order, and advised me to take the firstopportunity when we were in port, and try it. I told the second mate, with whom I had been pretty thick when he was before the mast, that Iwould do it, and got him to ask the mate to send me up the first timethey were struck. Accordingly I was called upon, and went up, repeating the operations over in my mind, taking care to get everythingin its order, for the slightest mistake spoils the whole. Fortunately, I got through without any word from the officer, and heard the "welldone" of the mate, when the yard reached the deck, with as muchsatisfaction as I ever felt at Cambridge on seeing a "bene" at the footof a Latin exercise. 

CHAPTER XII

LIFE AT MONTEREY

The next day being Sunday, which is the liberty-day among merchantmen, when it is usual to let a part of the crew go ashore, the sailors haddepended upon a day on land, and were already disputing who should askto go, when, upon being called in the morning, we were turned-to uponthe rigging, and found that the topmast, which had been sprung, was tocome down, and a new one to go up, and top-gallant and royal-masts, andthe rigging to be set up. This was too bad. If there is anything thatirritates sailors and makes them feel hardly used, it is being deprivedof their Sabbath. Not that they would always, or indeed generally, spend it religiously, but it is their only day of rest. Then, too, they are often necessarily deprived of it by storms, and unavoidableduties of all kinds, that to take it from them when lying quietly andsafely in port, without any urgent reason, bears the more hardly. Theonly reason in this case was, that the captain had determined to havethe custom-house officers on board on Monday, and wished to have hisbrig in order. Jack is a slave aboard ship; but still he has manyopportunities of thwarting and balking his master. When there isdanger, or necessity, or when he is well used, no one can work fasterthan he; but the instant he feels that he is kept at work for nothing, no sloth could make less headway. He must not refuse his duty, or bein any way disobedient, but all the work that an officer gets out ofhim, he may be welcome to. Every man who has been three months at seaknows how to "work Tom Cox's traverse"--"three turns round thelong-boat, and a pull at the scuttled-butt. " This morning everythingwent in this way. "Sogering" was the order of the day. Send a manbelow to get a block, and he would capsize everything before findingit, then not bring it up till an officer had called him twice, and takeas much time to put things in order again. Marline-spikes were not tobe found; knives wanted a prodigious deal of sharpening, and, generally, three or four were waiting round the grindstone at a time. When a man got to the mast-head, he would come slowly down again to getsomething which he had forgotten; and after the tackles were got up, six men would pull less than three who pulled "with a will. " When themate was out of sight, nothing was done. It was all uphill work; andat eight o'clock, when we went to breakfast, things were nearly wherethey were when we began. 

During our short meal, the matter was discussed. One proposed refusingto work; but that was mutiny, and of course was rejected at once. Iremember, too, that one of the men quoted "Father Taylor, " (as theycall the seamen's preacher at Boston, ) who told them that if they wereordered to work on Sunday, they must not refuse their duty, and theblame would not come upon them. After breakfast, it leaked out, through the officers, that if we would get through our work soon, wemight have a boat in the afternoon and go fishing. This bait was wellthrown, and took with several who were fond of fishing; and all beganto find that as we had one thing to do, and were not to be kept at workfor the day, the sooner we did it, the better. 

Accordingly, things took a new aspect; and before two o'clock thiswork, which was in a fair way to last two days, was done; and five ofus went a fishing in the jolly-boat, in the direction of Point Pinos;but leave to go ashore was refused. Here we saw the Loriotte, whichsailed with us from Santa Barbara, coming slowly in with a lightsea-breeze, which sets in towards afternoon, having been becalmed offthe point all the first part of the day. We took several fish ofvarious kinds, among which cod and perch abounded, and F----, (theci-devant second mate, ) who was of our number, brought up with his hooka large and beautiful pearl-oyster shell. We afterwards learned thatthis place was celebrated for shells, and that a small schooner hadmade a good voyage, by carrying a cargo of them to the United States. 

We returned by sun-down, and found the Loriotte at anchor, within acable's length of the Pilgrim. The next day we were "turned-to" early, and began taking off the hatches, overhauling the cargo, and gettingeverything ready for inspection. At eight, the officers of thecustoms, five in number, came on board, and began overhauling thecargo, manifest, etc. 

The Mexican revenue laws are very strict, and require the whole cargoto be landed, examined, and taken on board again; but our agent, Mr. R----, had succeeded in compounding with them for the two last vessels, and saving the trouble of taking the cargo ashore. The officers weredressed in the costume which we found prevailed through the country. Abroad-brimmed hat, usually of a black or dark-brown color, with a giltor figured band round the crown, and lined inside with silk; a shortjacket of silk or figured calico, (the European skirted body-coat isnever worn;) the shirt open in the neck; rich waistcoat, if any;pantaloons wide, straight, and long, usually of velvet, velveteen, orbroadcloth; or else short breeches and white stockings. They wear thedeer-skin shoe, which is of a dark-brown color, and, (being made byIndians, ) usually a good deal ornamented. They have no suspenders, butalways wear a sash round the waist, which is generally red, and varyingin quality with the means of the wearer. Add to this the never-failingcloak, and you have the dress of the Californian. This last garment, the cloak, is always a mark of the rank and wealth of the owner. The"gente de razón, " or aristocracy, wear cloaks of black or dark bluebroadcloth, with as much velvet and trimmings as may be; and from thisthey go down to the blanket of the Indian; the middle classes wearingsomething like a large table-cloth, with a hole in the middle for thehead to go through. This is often as coarse as a blanket, but beingbeautifully woven with various colors, is quite showy at a distance. Among the Mexicans there is no working class; (the Indians being slavesand doing all the hard work;) and every rich man looks like a grandee, and every poor scamp like a broken-down gentleman. I have often seen aman with a fine figure, and courteous manners, dressed in broadclothand velvet, with a noble horse completely covered with trappings;without a real in his pocket, and absolutely suffering for something toeat. 

CHAPTER XIII

TRADING--A BRITISH SAILOR

The next day, the cargo having been entered in due form, we begantrading. The trade-room was fitted up in the steerage, and furnishedout with the lighter goods, and with specimens of the rest of thecargo; and M----, a young man who came out from Boston with us, beforethe mast, was taken out of the forecastle, and made supercargo's clerk. He was well qualified for the business, having been clerk in acounting-house in Boston. He had been troubled for some time with therheumatism, which unfitted him for the wet and exposed duty of a sailoron the coast. For a week or ten days all was life on board. The peoplecame off to look and to buy--men, women, and children; and we werecontinually going in the boats, carrying goods and passengers, --forthey have no boats of their own. Everything must dress itself and comeaboard and see the new vessel, if it were only to buy a paper of pins. The agent and his clerk managed the sales, while we were busy in thehold or in the boats. Our cargo was an assorted one; that is, itconsisted of everything under the sun. We had spirits of all kinds, (sold by the cask, ) teas, coffee, sugars, spices, raisins, molasses, hardware, crockery-ware, tinware, cutlery, clothing of all kinds, bootsand shoes from Lynn, calicoes and cottons from Lowell, crepes, silks;also shawls, scarfs, necklaces, jewelry, and combs for the ladies;furniture; and in fact, everything that can be imagined, from Chinesefire-works to English cart-wheels--of which we had a dozen pairs withtheir iron rims on. 

The Californians are an idle, thriftless people, and can make nothingfor themselves. The country abounds in grapes, yet they buy bad winesmade in Boston and brought round by us, at an immense price, and retailit among themselves at a real (12½ cents) by the small wine-glass. Their hides, too, which they value at two dollars in money, they givefor something which costs seventy-five cents in Boston; and buy shoes(like as not, made of their own hides, and which have been carriedtwice around Cape Horn) at three or four dollars, and "chicken-skin"boots at fifteen dollars apiece. Things sell, on an average, at anadvance of nearly three hundred per cent upon the Boston prices. Thisis partly owing to the heavy duties which the government, in theirwisdom, with the intent, no doubt, of keeping the silver in thecountry, has laid upon imports. These duties, and the enormous expensesof so long a voyage, keep all merchants, but those of heavy capital, from engaging in the trade. Nearly two-thirds of all the articlesimported into the country from round Cape Horn, for the last six years, have been by the single house of Bryant, Sturgis & Co. , to whom ourvessel belonged, and who have a permanent agent on the coast. 

This kind of business was new to us, and we liked it very well for afew days, though we were hard at work every minute from daylight todark; and sometimes even later. 

By being thus continually engaged in transporting passengers with theirgoods, to and fro, we gained considerable knowledge of the character, dress, and language of the people. The dress of the men was as I havebefore described it. The women wore gowns of various texture--silks, crape, calicoes, etc. , --made after the European style, except that thesleeves were short, leaving the arm bare, and that they were looseabout the waist, having no corsets. They wore shoes of kid, or satin;sashes or belts of bright colors; and almost always a necklace andear-rings. Bonnets they had none. I only saw one on the coast, andthat belonged to the wife of an American sea-captain who had settled inSan Diego, and had imported the chaotic mass of straw and ribbon, as achoice present to his new wife. They wear their hair (which is almostinvariably black, or a very dark brown) long in their necks, sometimesloose, and sometimes in long braids; though the married women often doit up on a high comb. Their only protection against the sun andweather is a large mantle which they put over their heads, drawing itclose round their faces, when they go out of doors, which is generallyonly in pleasant weather. When in the house, or sitting out in frontof it, which they often do in fine weather, they usually wear a smallscarf or neckerchief of a rich pattern. A band, also, about the top ofthe head, with a cross, star, or other ornament in front, is common. Their complexions are various, depending--as well as their dress andmanner--upon their rank; or, in other words, upon the amount of Spanishblood they can lay claim to. Those who are of pure Spanish blood, having never intermarried with the aborigines, have clear brunettecomplexions, and sometimes, even as fair as those of English women. There are but few of these families in California; being mostly thosein official stations, or who, on the expiration of their offices, havesettled here upon property which they have acquired; and others whohave been banished for state offences. These form the aristocracy;inter-marrying, and keeping up an exclusive system in every respect. They can be told by their complexions, dress, manner, and also by theirspeech; for, calling themselves Castilians, they are very ambitious ofspeaking the pure Castilian language, which is spoken in a somewhatcorrupted dialect by the lower classes. From this upper class, they godown by regular shades, growing more and more dark and muddy, until youcome to the pure Indian, who runs about with nothing upon him but asmall piece of cloth, kept up by a wide leather strap drawn round hiswaist. Generally speaking, each person's caste is decided by thequality of the blood, which shows itself, too plainly to be concealed, at first sight. Yet the least drop of Spanish blood, if it be only ofquadroon or octoroon, is sufficient to raise them from the rank ofslaves, and entitle them to a suit of clothes--boots, hat, cloak, spurs, long knife, and all complete, though coarse and dirty as maybe, --and to call themselves Españolos, and to hold property, if theycan get any. 

The fondness for dress among the women is excessive, and is often theruin of many of them. A present of a fine mantle, or of a necklace orpair of ear-rings, gains the favor of the greater part of them. Nothing is more common than to see a woman living in a house of onlytwo rooms, and the ground for a floor, dressed in spangled satin shoes, silk gown, high comb, and gilt, if not gold, ear-rings and necklace. If their husbands do not dress them well enough, they will soon receivepresents from others. They used to spend whole days on board ourvessels, examining the fine clothes and ornaments, and frequently madepurchases at a rate which would have made a seamstress or waiting-maidin Boston open her eyes. 

Next to the love of dress, I was most struck with the fineness of thevoices and beauty of the intonations of both sexes. Every commonruffian-looking fellow, with a slouched hat, blanket cloak, dirtyunder-dress, and soiled leather leggins, appeared to me to be speakingelegant Spanish. It was a pleasure, simply to listen to the sound ofthe language, before I could attach any meaning to it. They have a gooddeal of the Creole drawl, but it is varied with an occasional extremerapidity of utterance, in which they seem to skip from consonant toconsonant, until, lighting upon a broad, open vowel, they rest uponthat to restore the balance of sound. The women carry this peculiarityof speaking to a much greater extreme than the men, who have moreevenness and stateliness of utterance. A common bullock-driver, onhorseback, delivering a message, seemed to speak like an ambassador atan audience. In fact, they sometimes appeared to me to be a people onwhom a curse had fallen, and stripped them of everything but theirpride, their manners, and their voices. 

Another thing that surprised me was the quantity of silver that was incirculation. I certainly never saw so much silver at one time in mylife, as during the week that we were at Monterey. The truth is, theyhave no credit system, no banks, and no way of investing money but incattle. They have no circulating medium but silver and hides--whichthe sailors call "California bank notes. " Everything that they buy theymust pay for in one or the other of these things. The hides they bringdown dried and doubled, in clumsy ox-carts, or upon mules' backs, andthe money they carry tied up in a handkerchief;--fifty, eighty, or anhundred dollars and half dollars. 

I had never studied Spanish while at college, and could not speak aword, when at Juan Fernandez; but during the latter part of the passageout, I borrowed a grammar and dictionary from the cabin, and by acontinual use of these, and a careful attention to every word that Iheard spoken, I soon got a vocabulary together, and began talking formyself. As I soon knew more Spanish than any of the crew, (who indeedknew none at all, ) and had been at college and knew Latin, I got thename of a great linguist, and was always sent for by the captain andofficers to get provisions, or to carry letters and messages todifferent parts of the town. I was often sent to get something which Icould not tell the name of to save my life; but I liked the business, and accordingly never pleaded ignorance. Sometimes I managed to jumpbelow and take a look at my dictionary before going ashore; or else Ioverhauled some English resident on my way, and got the word from him;and then, by signs, and the help of my Latin and French, contrived toget along. This was a good exercise for me, and no doubt taught memore than I should have learned by months of study and reading; it alsogave me opportunities of seeing the customs, characters, and domesticarrangements of the people; beside being a great relief from themonotony of a day spent on board ship. 

Monterey, as far as my observation goes, is decidedly the pleasantestand most civilized-looking place in California. In the centre of it isan open square, surrounded by four lines of one-story plasteredbuildings, with half a dozen cannon in the centre; some mounted, andothers not. This is the "Presidio, " or fort. Every town has apresidio in its centre; or rather, every presidio has a town builtaround it; for the forts were first built by the Mexican government, and then the people built near them for protection. The presidio herewas entirely open and unfortified. There were several officers withlong titles, and about eighty soldiers, but they were poorly paid, fed, clothed, and disciplined. The governor-general, or, as he is commonlycalled, the "general, " lives here; which makes it the seat ofgovernment. He is appointed by the central government at Mexico, andis the chief civil and military officer. In addition to him, each townhas a commandant, who is the chief military officer, and has charge ofthe fort, and of all transactions with foreigners and foreign vessels;and two or three alcaldes and corregidores, elected by the inhabitants, who are the civil officers. Courts and jurisprudence they have noknowledge of. Small municipal matters are regulated by the alcaldesand corregidores; and everything relating to the general government, tothe military, and to foreigners, by the commandants, acting under thegovernor-general. Capital cases are decided by him, upon personalinspection, if he is near; or upon minutes sent by the proper officers, if the offender is at a distant place. No Protestant has any civilrights, nor can he hold any property, or, indeed, remain more than afew weeks on shore, unless he belong to some vessel. Consequently, theAmericans and English who intend to remain here become Catholics, to aman; the current phrase among them being, --"A man must leave hisconscience at Cape Horn. "

But to return to Monterey. The houses here, as everywhere else inCalifornia, are of one story, built of clay made into large bricks, about a foot and a half square and three or four inches thick, andhardened in the sun. These are cemented together by mortar of the samematerial, and the whole are of a common dirt-color. The floors aregenerally of earth, the windows grated and without glass; and thedoors, which are seldom shut, open directly into the common room; therebeing no entries. Some of the more wealthy inhabitants have glass totheir windows and board floors; and in Monterey nearly all the housesare plastered on the outside. The better houses, too, have red tilesupon the roofs. The common ones have two or three rooms which openinto each other, and are furnished with a bed or two, a few chairs andtables, a looking-glass, a crucifix of some material or other, andsmall daubs of paintings enclosed in glass, and representing somemiracle or martyrdom. They have no chimneys or fire-places in thehouses, the climate being such as to make a fire unnecessary; and alltheir cooking is done in a small cook-house, separated from the house. The Indians, as I have said before, do all the hard work, two or threebeing attached to each house; and the poorest persons are able to keepone, at least, for they have only to feed them and give them a smallpiece of coarse cloth and a belt, for the males; and a coarse gown, without shoes or stockings, for the females. 

In Monterey there are a number of English and Americans (English or"Ingles" all are called who speak the English language) who havemarried Californians, become united to the Catholic church, andacquired considerable property. Having more industry, frugality, andenterprise than the natives, they soon get nearly all the trade intotheir hands. They usually keep shops, in which they retail the goodspurchased in larger quantities from our vessels, and also send a gooddeal into the interior, taking hides in pay, which they again barterwith our vessels. In every town on the coast there are foreignersengaged in this kind of trade, while I recollect but two shops kept bynatives. The people are generally suspicious of foreigners, and theywould not be allowed to remain, were it not that they become goodCatholics, and by marrying natives, and bringing up their children asCatholics and Mexicans, and not teaching them the English language, they quiet suspicion, and even become popular and leading men. Thechief alcaldes in Monterey and Santa Barbara were both Yankees by birth. 

The men in Monterey appeared to me to be always on horseback. Horsesare as abundant here as dogs and chickens were in Juan Fernandez. Thereare no stables to keep them in, but they are allowed to run wild andgraze wherever they please, being branded, and having long leatherropes, called "lassos, " attached to their necks and dragging alongbehind them, by which they can be easily taken. The men usually catchone in the morning, throw a saddle and bridle upon him, and use him forthe day, and let him go at night, catching another the next day. Whenthey go on long journeys, they ride one horse down, and catch another, throw the saddle and bridle upon him, and after riding him down, take athird, and so on to the end of the journey. There are probably nobetter riders in the world. They get upon a horse when only four orfive years old, their little legs not long enough to come half way overhis sides; and may almost be said to keep on him until they have grownto him. The stirrups are covered or boxed up in front, to preventtheir catching when riding through the woods; and the saddles are largeand heavy, strapped very tight upon the horse, and have large pommels, or loggerheads, in front, round which the "lasso" is coiled when not inuse. They can hardly go from one house to another without getting on ahorse, there being generally several standing tied to the door-posts ofthe little cottages. When they wish to show their activity, they makeno use of their stirrups in mounting, but striking the horse, springinto the saddle as he starts, and sticking their long spurs into him, go off on the full run. Their spurs are cruel things, having four orfive rowels, each an inch in length, dull and rusty. The flanks of thehorses are often sore from them, and I have seen men come in fromchasing bullocks with their horses' hind legs and quarters covered withblood. They frequently give exhibitions of their horsemanship, inraces, bull-baitings, etc. ; but as we were not ashore during anyholyday, we saw nothing of it. Monterey is also a great place forcock-fighting, gambling of all sorts, fandangos, and every kind ofamusement and knavery. Trappers and hunters, who occasionally arrivehere from over the Rocky mountains, with their valuable skins and furs, are often entertained with every sort of amusement and dissipation, until they have wasted their time and their money, and go back, stripped of everything. 

Nothing but the character of the people prevents Monterey from becominga great town. The soil is as rich as man could wish; climate as goodas any in the world; water abundant, and situation extremely beautiful. The harbor, too, is a good one, being subject only to one bad wind, thenorth; and though the holding-ground is not the best, yet I heard ofbut one vessel's being driven ashore here. That was a Mexican brig, which went ashore a few months before our arrival, and was a totalwreck, all the crew but one being drowned. Yet this was from thecarelessness or ignorance of the captain, who paid out all his smallcable before he let go his other anchor. The ship Lagoda, of Boston, was there at the time, and rode out the gale in safety, withoutdragging at all, or finding it necessary to strike her top-gallantmasts. 

The only vessel in port with us was the little Loriotte. I frequentlywent on board her, and became very well acquainted with her SandwichIsland crew. One of them could speak a little English, and from him Ilearned a good deal about them. They were well formed and active, withblack eyes, intelligent countenances, dark-olive, or, I should rathersay, copper complexions and coarse black hair, but not woolly like thenegroes. They appeared to be talking continually. In the forecastlethere was a complete Babel. Their language is extremely guttural, andnot pleasant at first, but improves as you hear it more, and is said tohave great capacity. They use a good deal of gesticulation, and areexceedingly animated, saying with their might what their tongues findto say. They are complete water-dogs, therefore very good in boating. It is for this reason that there are so many of them on the coast ofCalifornia; they being very good hands in the surf. They are alsoquick and active in the rigging, and good hands in warm weather; butthose who have been with them round Cape Horn, and in high latitudes, say that they are useless in cold weather. In their dress they areprecisely like our sailors. In addition to these Islanders, the vesselhad two English sailors, who acted as boatswains over the Islanders, and took care of the rigging. One of them I shall always remember asthe best specimen of the thoroughbred English sailor that I ever saw. He had been to sea from a boy, having served a regular apprenticeshipof seven years, as all English sailors are obliged to do, and was thenabout four or five and twenty. He was tall; but you only perceived itwhen he was standing by the side of others, for the great breadth ofhis shoulders and chest made him appear but little above the middleheight. His chest was as deep as it was wide; his arm like that ofHercules; and his hand "the fist of a tar--every hair a rope-yarn. "With all this he had one of the pleasantest smiles I ever saw. Hischeeks were of a handsome brown; his teeth brilliantly white; and hishair, of a raven black, waved in loose curls all over his head, andfine, open forehead; and his eyes he might have sold to a duchess atthe price of diamonds, for their brilliancy. As for their color, theywere like the Irishman's pig, which would not stay to be counted, everychange of position and light seemed to give them a new hue; but theirprevailing color was black, or nearly so. Take him with hiswell-varnished black tarpaulin stuck upon the back of his head; hislong locks coming down almost into his eyes; his white duck trowsersand shirt; blue jacket; and black kerchief, tied loosely round hisneck; and he was a fine specimen of manly beauty. On his broad chesthe had stamped with India ink "Parting moments;"--a ship ready to sail;a boat on the beach; and a girl and her sailor lover taking theirfarewell. Underneath were printed the initials of his own name, and twoother letters, standing for some name which he knew better than I did. This was very well done, having been executed by a man who made it hisbusiness to print with India ink, for sailors, at Havre. On one of hisbroad arms, he had the crucifixion, and on the other the sign of the"foul anchor. "

He was very fond of reading, and we lent him most of the books which wehad in the forecastle, which he read and returned to us the next timewe fell in with him. He had a good deal of information, and hiscaptain said he was a perfect seaman, and worth his weight in gold onboard a vessel, in fair weather and in foul. His strength must havebeen great, and he had the sight of a vulture. It is strange that oneshould be so minute in the description of an unknown, outcast sailor, whom one may never see again, and whom no one may care to hear about;but so it is. Some people we see under no remarkable circumstances, butwhom, for some reason or other, we never forget. He called himselfBill Jackson; and I know no one of all my accidental acquaintances towhom I would more gladly give a shake of the hand than to him. Whoeverfalls in with him will find a handsome, hearty fellow, and a goodshipmate. 

Sunday came again while we were at Monterey, but as before, it broughtus no holyday. The people on shore dressed themselves and came off ingreater numbers than ever, and we were employed all day in boating andbreaking out cargo, so that we had hardly time to eat. Our cidevantsecond mate, who was determined to get liberty if it was to be had, dressed himself in a long coat and black hat, and polished his shoes, and went aft and asked to go ashore. He could not have done a moreimprudent thing; for he knew that no liberty would be given; andbesides, sailors, however sure they may be of having liberty grantedthem always go aft in their working clothes, to appear as though theyhad no reason to expect anything, and then wash, dress, and shave, after they get their liberty. But this poor fellow was always gettinginto hot water, and if there was a wrong way of doing a thing, was sureto hit upon it. We looked to see him go aft, knowing pretty well whathis reception would be. The captain was walking the quarter-deck, smoking his morning cigar, and F---- went as far as the break of thedeck, and there waited for him to notice him. The captain took two orthree turns, and then walking directly up to him, surveyed him fromhead to foot, and lifting up his forefinger, said a word or two, in atone too low for us to hear, but which had a magical effect upon poorF----. He walked forward, sprang into the forecastle, and in a momentmore made his appearance in his common clothes, and went quietly towork again. What the captain said to him, we never could get him totell, but it certainly changed him outwardly and inwardly in a mostsurprising manner. 

CHAPTER XIV

SANTA BARBARA--HIDE-DROGHING--HARBOR DUTIES--DISCONTENT--SAN PEDRO

After a few days, finding the trade beginning to slacken, we hove ouranchor up, set our topsails, ran the stars and stripes up to the peak, fired a gun, which was returned from the Presidio, and left the littletown astern, running out of the bay, and bearing down the coast again, for Santa Barbara. As we were now going to leeward, we had a fair windand a plenty of it. After doubling Point Pinos, we bore up, setstudding-sails alow and aloft, and were walking off at the rate ofeight or nine knots, promising to traverse in twenty-four hours thedistance which we were nearly three weeks in traversing on the passageup. We passed Point Conception at a flying rate, the wind blowing sothat it would have seemed half a gale to us, if we had been going theother way and close hauled. As we drew near the islands off SantaBarbara, it died away a little but we came-to at our oldanchoring-ground in less than thirty hours from the time of leavingMonterey. 

Here everything was pretty much as we left it--the large bay without avessel in it; the surf roaring and rolling in upon the beach; the whitemission; the dark town and the high, treeless mountains. Here, too, wehad our south-easter tacks aboard again, --slip-ropes, buoy-ropes, sailsfurled with reefs in them, and rope-yarns for gaskets. We lay hereabout a fortnight, employed in landing goods and taking off hides, occasionally, when the surf was not high; but there did not appear tobe one-half the business doing here that there was in Monterey. Infact, so far as we were concerned, the town might almost as well havebeen in the middle of the Cordilleras. We lay at a distance of threemiles from the beach, and the town was nearly a mile farther; so thatwe saw little or nothing of it. Occasionally we landed a few goods, which were taken away by Indians in large, clumsy ox-carts, with theyoke on the ox's neck instead of under it, and with small solid wheels. A few hides were brought down, which we carried off in the Californiastyle. This we had now got pretty well accustomed to; and hardened toalso; for it does require a little hardening even to the toughest. 

The hides are always brought down dry, or they would not be received. When they are taken from the animal, they have holes cut in the ends, and are staked out, and thus dried in the sun without shrinking. Theyare then doubled once, lengthwise, with the hair side usually in, andsent down, upon mules or in carts, and piled above highwater mark; andthen we rake them upon our heads, one at a time, or two, if they aresmall, and wade out with them and throw them into the boat, which asthere are no wharves, we are usually kept anchored by a small kedge, orkeelek, just outside of the surf. We all provided ourselves with thickScotch caps, which would be soft to the head, and at the same timeprotect it; for we soon found that however it might look or feel atfirst the "head-work" was the only system for California. For besidesthat the seas, breaking high, often obliged us to carry the hides so, in order to keep them dry, we found that, as they were very large andheavy, and nearly as stiff as boards, it was the only way that we couldcarry them with any convenience to ourselves. Some of the crew triedother expedients, saying that they looked too much like West Indianegroes; but they all came to it at last. The great art is in gettingthem on the head. We had to take them from the ground, and as theywere often very heavy, and as wide as the arms could stretch and easilytaken by the wind, we used to have some trouble with them. I haveoften been laughed at myself, and joined in laughing at others, pitching themselves down in the sand, trying to swing a large hide upontheir heads, or nearly blown over with one in a little gust of wind. The captain made it harder for us, by telling us that it was"California fashion" to carry two on the head at a time; and as heinsisted upon it, and we did not wish to be outdone by other vessels, we carried two for the first few months; but after falling in with afew other "hide-droghers, " and finding that they carried only one at atime we "knocked off" the extra one, and thus made our duty somewhateasier. 

After we had got our heads used to the weight, and had learned the trueCalifornia style of tossing a hide, we could carry off two or threehundred in a short time, without much trouble; but it was always wetwork, and, if the beach was stony, bad for our feet; for we, of course, always went barefooted on this duty, as no shoes could stand suchconstant wetting with salt water. Then, too, we had a long pull ofthree miles, with a loaded boat, which often took a couple of hours. 

We had now got well settled down into our harbor duties, which, as theyare a good deal different from those at sea, it may be well enough todescribe. In the first place, all hands are called at daylight, orrather--especially if the days are short--before daylight, as soon asthe first grey of the morning. The cook makes his fire in the galley;the steward goes about his work in the cabin; and the crew rig the headpump, and wash down the decks. The chief mate is always on deck, buttakes no active part, all the duty coming upon the second mate, who hasto roll up his trowsers and paddle about decks barefooted, like therest of the crew. The washing, swabbing, squilgeeing, etc. , lasts, oris made to last, until eight o'clock, when breakfast is ordered, foreand aft. After breakfast, for which half an hour is allowed, the boatsare lowered down, and made fast astern, or out to the swinging booms, by ges-warps, and the crew are turned-to upon their day's work. Thisis various, and its character depends upon circumstances. There isalways more or less of boating, in small boats; and if heavy goods areto be taken ashore, or hides are brought down to the beach for us, thenall hands are sent ashore with an officer in the long boat. Then thereis always a good deal to be done in the hold: goods to be broken out;and cargo to be shifted, to make room for hides, or to keep the trim ofthe vessel. In addition to this, the usual work upon the rigging mustbe done. There is a good deal of the latter kind of work which canonly be done when the vessel is in port;--and then everything must bekept taught and in good order; spun-yarn made; chafing gear repaired;and all the other ordinary work. The great difference between sea andharbor duty is in the division of time. Instead of having a watch ondeck and a watch below, as at sea, all hands are at work together, except at meal times, from daylight till dark; and at night an"anchor-watch" is kept, which consists of only two at a time; the wholecrew taking turns. An hour is allowed for dinner, and at dark, thedecks are cleared up; the boats hoisted; supper ordered; and at eight, the lights put out, except in the binnacle, where the glass stands; andthe anchor-watch is set. Thus, when at anchor, the crew have more timeat night, (standing watch only about two hours, ) but have no time tothemselves in the day; so that reading, mending clothes, etc. , has tobe put off until Sunday, which is usually given. Some religiouscaptains give their crews Saturday afternoons to do their washing andmending in, so that they may have their Sundays free. This is a goodarrangement, and does much toward creating the preference sailorsusually show for religious vessels. We were well satisfied if we gotSunday to ourselves, for, if any hides came down on that day, as wasoften the case when they were brought from a distance, we were obligedto bring them off, which usually took half a day; and as we now livedon fresh beef, and ate one bullock a week, the animal was almost alwaysbrought down on Sunday, and we had to go ashore, kill it, dress it, andbring it aboard, which was another interruption. Then, too, ourcommon day's work was protracted and made more fatiguing by hidescoming down late in the afternoon, which sometimes kept us at work inthe surf by star-light, with the prospect of pulling on board, andstowing them all away, before supper. 

But all these little vexations and labors would have beennothing, --they would have been passed by as the common evils of asea-life, which every sailor, who is a man, will go through withoutcomplaint, --were it not for the uncertainty, or worse than uncertainty, which hung over the nature and length of our voyage. Here we were, ina little vessel, with a small crew, on a half-civilized coast, at theends of the earth, and with a prospect of remaining an indefiniteperiod, two or three years at the least. When we left Boston wesupposed that it was to be a voyage of eighteen months, or two years, at most; but upon arriving on the coast, we learned something more ofthe trade, and found that in the scarcity of hides, which was yearlygreater and greater, it would take us a year, at least, to collect ourown cargo, beside the passage out and home; and that we were also tocollect a cargo for a large ship belonging to the same firm, which wassoon to come on the coast, and to which we were to act as tender. Wehad heard rumors of such a ship to follow us, which had leaked out fromthe captain and mate, but we passed them by as mere "yarns, " till ourarrival, when they were confirmed by the letters which we brought fromthe owners to their agent. The ship California, belonging to the samefirm, had been nearly two years on the coast; had collected a fullcargo, and was now at San Diego, from which port she was expected tosail in a few weeks for Boston; and we were to collect all the hides wecould, and deposit them at San Diego, when the new ship, which wouldcarry forty thousand, was to be filled and sent home; and then we wereto begin anew, and collect our own cargo. Here was a gloomy prospectbefore us, indeed. The California had been twenty months on the coast, and the Lagoda, a smaller ship, carrying only thirty-one or thirty-twothousand, had been two years getting her cargo; and we were to collecta cargo of forty thousand beside our own, which would be twelve orfifteen thousand; and hides were said to be growing scarcer. Then, too, this ship, which had been to us a worse phantom than any flyingDutchman, was no phantom, or ideal thing, but had been reduced to acertainty; so much so that a name was given her, and it was said thatshe was to be the Alert, a well-known India-man, which was expected inBoston in a few months, when we sailed. There could be no doubt, andall looked black enough. Hints were thrown out about three years andfour years;--the older sailors said they never should see Boston again, but should lay their bones in California; and a cloud seemed to hangover the whole voyage. Besides, we were not provided for so long avoyage, and clothes, and all sailors' necessaries, were excessivelydear--three or four hundred per cent. Advance upon the Boston prices. This was bad enough for them; but still worse was it for me, who didnot mean to be a sailor for life; having intended only to be goneeighteen months or two years. Three or four years would make me asailor in every respect, mind and habits, as well as body--nolensvolens; and would put all my companions so far ahead of me that collegeand a profession would be in vain to think of; and I made up my mindthat, feel as I might, a sailor I must be, and to be master of avessel, must be the height of my ambition. 

Beside the length of the voyage, and the hard and exposed life, we wereat the ends of the earth; on a coast almost solitary; in a countrywhere there is neither law nor gospel, and where sailors are at theircaptain's mercy, there being no American consul, or any one to whom acomplaint could be made. We lost all interest in the voyage; carednothing about the cargo, which we were only collecting for others;began to patch our clothes; and felt as though we were fixed beyond allhope of change. 

In addition to, and perhaps partly as a consequence of, this state ofthings, there was trouble brewing on board the vessel. Our mate (asthe first mate is always called, par excellence) was a worthy man;--amore honest, upright, and kind-hearted man I never saw; but he was toogood for the mate of a merchantman. He was not the man to call asailor a "son of a b---h, " and knock him down with a handspike. Hewanted the energy and spirit for such a voyage as ours, and for such acaptain. Captain T---- was a vigorous, energetic fellow. As sailorssay, "he hadn't a lazy bone in him. " He was made of steel andwhalebone. He was a man to "toe the mark, " and to make every one elsestep up to it. During all the time that I was with him, I never sawhim sit down on deck. He was always active and driving; severe in hisdiscipline, and expected the same of his officers. The mate not beingenough of a driver for him, and being perhaps too easy with the crew, he was dissatisfied with him, became suspicious that discipline wasgetting relaxed, and began to interfere in everything. He drew thereins taughter; and as, in all quarrels between officers, the sailorsside with the one who treats them best, he became suspicious of thecrew. He saw that everything went wrong--that nothing was done "with awill;" and in his attempt to remedy the difficulty by severity, he madeeverything worse. We were in every respect unfortunately situated. Captain, officers, and crew, entirely unfitted for one another; andevery circumstance and event was like a two-edged sword, and cut bothways. The length of the voyage, which made us dissatisfied, made thecaptain, at the same time, feel the necessity of order and strictdiscipline; and the nature of the country, which caused us to feel thatwe had nowhere to go for redress, but were entirely at the mercy of ahard master, made the captain feel, on the other hand, that he mustdepend entirely upon his own resources. Severity created discontent, and signs of discontent provoked severity. Then, too, ill-treatmentand dissatisfaction are no "linimenta laborum;" and many a time have Iheard the sailors say that they should not mind the length of thevoyage, and the hardships, if they were only kindly treated, and ifthey could feel that something was done to make things lighter andeasier. We felt as though our situation was a call upon our superiorsto give us occasional relaxations, and to make our yoke easier. Butthe contrary policy was pursued. We were kept at work all day when inport; which, together with a watch at night, made us glad to turn-in assoon as we got below. Thus we got no time for reading, or--which was ofmore importance to us--for washing and mending our clothes. And then, when we were at sea, sailing from port to port, instead of giving us"watch and watch, " as was the custom on board every other vessel on thecoast, we were all kept on deck and at work, rain or shine, makingspun-yarn and rope, and at other work in good weather, and pickingoakum, when it was too wet for anything else. All hands were called to"come up and see it rain, " and kept on deck hour after hour in adrenching rain, standing round the deck so far apart as to prevent ourtalking with one another, with our tarpaulins and oil-cloth jackets on, picking old rope to pieces, or laying up gaskets and robands. This wasoften done, too, when we were lying in port with two anchors down, andno necessity for more than one man on deck as a look-out. This is whatis called "hazing" a crew, and "working their old iron up. "

While lying at Santa Barbara, we encountered another south-easter; and, like the first, it came on in the night; the great black clouds cominground from the southward, covering the mountain, and hanging down overthe town, appearing almost to rest upon the roofs of the houses. Wemade sail, slipped our cable, cleared the point, and beat about, forfour days, in the offing, under close sail, with continual rain andhigh seas and winds. No wonder, thought we, they have no rain in theother seasons, for enough seemed to have fallen in those four days tolast through a common summer. On the fifth day it cleared up, after afew hours, as is usual, of rain coming down like a four hours'shower-bath, and we found ourselves drifted nearly ten leagues from theanchorage; and having light head winds, we did not return until thesixth day. Having recovered our anchor, we made preparations forgetting under weigh to go down to leeward. We had hoped to go directlyto San Diego, and thus fall in with the California before she sailedfor Boston; but our orders were to stop at an intermediate port calledSan Pedro, and as we were to lie there a week or two, and theCalifornia was to sail in a few days, we lost the opportunity. Justbefore sailing, the captain took on board a short, red-haired, round-shouldered, vulgar-looking fellow, who had lost one eye, andsquinted with the other, and introducing him as Mr. Russell, told usthat he was an officer on board. This was too bad. We had lostoverboard, on the passage, one of the best of our number, another hadbeen taken from us and appointed clerk, and thus weakened and reduced, instead of shipping some hands to make our work easier, he had putanother officer over us, to watch and drive us. We had now fourofficers, and only six in the forecastle. This was bringing her toomuch down by the stern for our comfort. 

Leaving Santa Barbara, we coasted along down, the country appearinglevel or moderately uneven, and, for the most part, sandy and treeless;until, doubling a high, sandy point, we let go our anchor at a distanceof three or three and a half miles from shore. It was like a vessel, bound to Halifax, coming to anchor on the Grand Banks; for the shorebeing low, appeared to be at a greater distance than it actually was, and we thought we might as well have staid at Santa Barbara, and sentour boat down for the hides. The land was of a clayey consistency, and, as far as the eye could reach, entirely bare of trees and even shrubs;and there was no sign of a town, --not even a house to be seen. Whatbrought us into such a place, we could not conceive. No sooner had wecome to anchor, than the slip-rope, and the other preparations forsouth-easters, were got ready; and there was reason enough for it, forwe lay exposed to every wind that could blow, except the north-west, and that came over a flat country with a range of more than a league ofwater. As soon as everything was snug on board, the boat was lowered, and we pulled ashore, our new officer, who had been several times inthe port before, taking the place of steersman. As we drew in, we foundthe tide low, and the rocks and stones, covered with kelp and sea-weed, lying bare for the distance of nearly an eighth of a mile. Picking ourway barefooted over these, we came to what is called the landing-place, at high-water mark. The soil was as it appeared at first, loose andclayey, and except the stalks of the mustard plant, there was novegetation. Just in front of the landing, and immediately over it, wasa small hill, which, from its being not more than thirty or forty feethigh, we had not perceived from our anchorage. Over this hill we sawthree men coming down, dressed partly like sailors and partly likeCalifornians; one of them having on a pair of untanned leather trowsersand a red baize shirt. When they came down to us, we found that theywere Englishmen, and they told us that they had belonged to a smallMexican brig which had been driven ashore here in a south-easter, andnow lived in a small house just over the hill. Going up this hill withthem, we saw, just behind it, a small, low building, with one room, containing a fire-place, cooking apparatus, etc. , and the rest of itunfinished, and used as a place to store hides and goods. This, theytold us, was built by some traders in the Pueblo, (a town about thirtymiles in the interior, to which this was the port, ) and used by them asa storehouse, and also as a lodging place when they came down to tradewith the vessels. These three men were employed by them to keep thehouse in order, and to look out for the things stored in it. They saidthat they had been there nearly a year; had nothing to do most of thetime, living upon beef, hard bread, and frijoles (a peculiar kind ofbean very abundant in California). The nearest house, they told us, was a Rancho, or cattle-farm, about three miles off; and one of themwent up, at the request of our officer, to order a horse to be sentdown, with which the agent, who was on board, might go up to thePueblo. From one of them, who was an intelligent English sailor, Ilearned a good deal, in a few minutes' conversation, about the place, its trade, and the news from the southern ports. San Diego, he said, was about eighty miles to the leeward of San Pedro; that they had heardfrom there, by a Mexican who came up on horseback, that the Californiahad sailed for Boston, and that the Lagoda, which had been in San Pedroonly a few weeks before, was taking in her cargo for Boston. TheAyacucho was also there, loading for Callao, and the little Loriotte, which had run directly down from Monterey, where we left her. SanDiego, he told me, was a small, snug place, having very little trade, but decidedly the best harbor on the coast, being completelyland-locked, and the water as smooth as a duck-pond. This was the depotfor all the vessels engaged in the trade; each one having a large housethere, built of rough boards, in which they stowed their hides, as fastas they collected them in their trips up and down the coast, and whenthey had procured a full cargo, spent a few weeks there, taking it in, smoking ship, supplying wood and water, and making other preparationsfor the voyage home. The Lagoda was now about this business. When weshould be about it, was more than I could tell; two years, at least, Ithought to myself. 

I also learned, to my surprise, that the desolate-looking place we werein was the best place on the whole coast for hides. It was the onlyport for a distance of eighty miles, and about thirty miles in theinterior was a fine plane country, filled with herds of cattle, in thecentre of which was the Pueblo de los Angelos--the largest town inCalifornia--and several of the wealthiest missions; to all of which SanPedro was the sea-port. 

Having made our arrangements for a horse to take the agent to thePueblo the next day, we picked our way again over the green, slipperyrocks, and pulled aboard. By the time we reached the vessel, which wasso far off that we could hardly see her, in the increasing darkness, the boats were hoisted up, and the crew at supper. Going down into theforecastle, eating our supper, and lighting our cigars and pipes, wehad, as usual, to tell all we had seen or heard ashore. We all agreedthat it was the worst place we had seen yet, especially for getting offhides, and our lying off at so great a distance looked as though it wasbad for south-easters. After a few disputes as to whether we shouldhave to carry our goods up the hill, or not, we talked of San Diego, the probability of seeing the Lagoda before she sailed, etc. , etc. 

The next day we pulled the agent ashore, and he went up to visit thePueblo and the neighboring missions; and in a few days, as the resultof his labors, large ox-carts, and droves of mules, loaded with hides, were seen coming over the flat country. We loaded our long-boat withgoods of all kinds, light and heavy, and pulled ashore. After landingand rolling them over the stones upon the beach, we stopped, waitingfor the carts to come down the hill and take them; but the captain soonsettled the matter by ordering us to carry them all up to the top, saying that, that was "California fashion. " So what the oxen would notdo, we were obliged to do. The hill was low, but steep, and the earth, being clayey and wet with the recent rains, was but bad holding-groundfor our feet. The heavy barrels and casks we rolled up with somedifficulty, getting behind and putting our shoulders to them; now andthen our feet slipping, added to the danger of the casks rolling backupon us. But the greatest trouble was with the large boxes of sugar. These, we had to place upon oars, and lifting them up rest the oarsupon our shoulders, and creep slowly up the hill with the gait of afuneral procession. After an hour or two of hard work, we got them allup, and found the carts standing full of hides, which we had to unload, and also to load again with our own goods; the lazy Indians, who camedown with them, squatting down on their hams, looking on, doingnothing, and when we asked them to help us, only shaking their heads, or drawling out "no quiero. "

Having loaded the carts, we started up the Indians, who went off, oneon each side of the oxen, with long sticks, sharpened at the end, topunch them with. This is one of the means of saving labor inCalifornia;--two Indians to two oxen. Now, the hides were to be gotdown; and for this purpose, we brought the boat round to a place wherethe hill was steeper, and threw them down, letting them slide over theslope. Many of them lodged, and we had to let ourselves down and setthem agoing again; and in this way got covered with dust, and ourclothes torn. After we had got them all down, we were obliged to takethem on our heads, and walk over the stones, and through the water, tothe boat. The water and the stones together would wear out a pair ofshoes a day, and as shoes were very scarce and very dear, we werecompelled to go barefooted. At night, we went on board, having had thehardest and most disagreeable day's work that we had yet experienced. For several days, we were employed in this manner, until we had landedforty or fifty tons of goods, and brought on board about two thousandhides; when the trade began to slacken, and we were kept at work, onboard, during the latter part of the week, either in the hold or uponthe rigging. On Thursday night, there was a violent blow from thenorthward, but as this was off-shore, we had only to let go our otheranchor and hold on. We were called up at night to send down theroyal-yards. It was as dark as a pocket, and the vessel pitching ather anchors, I went up to the fore, and my friend S----, to the main, and we soon had them down "ship-shape and Bristol fashion, " for, as wehad now got used to our duty aloft, everything above the cross-treeswas left to us, who were the youngest of the crew, except one boy. 

CHAPTER XV

A FLOGGING--A NIGHT ON SHORE--THE STATE OF THINGS ON BOARD--SAN DIEGO

For several days the captain seemed very much out of humor. Nothingwent right, or fast enough for him. He quarrelled with the cook, andthreatened to flog him for throwing wood on deck; and had a disputewith the mate about reeving a Spanish burton; the mate saying that hewas right, and had been taught how to do it by a man who was a sailor!This, the captain took in dudgeon, and they were at sword's points atonce. But his displeasure was chiefly turned against a large, heavy-moulded fellow from the Middle States, who was called Sam. Thisman hesitated in his speech, and was rather slow in his motions, butwas a pretty good sailor, and always seemed to do his best; but thecaptain took a dislike to him, thought he was surly, and lazy; and "ifyou once give a dog a bad name"--as the sailor-phrase is--"he may aswell jump overboard. " The captain found fault with everything this mandid, and hazed him for dropping a marline-spike from the main-yard, where he was at work. This, of course, was an accident, but it was setdown against him. The captain was on board all day Friday, andeverything went on hard and disagreeably. "The more you drive a man, the less he will do, " was as true with us as with any other people. Weworked late Friday night, and were turned-to early Saturday morning. About ten o'clock the captain ordered our new officer, Russell, who bythis time had become thoroughly disliked by all the crew, to get thegig ready to take him ashore. John, the Swede, was sitting in the boatalongside, and Russell and myself were standing by the main hatchway, waiting for the captain, who was down in the hold, where the crew wereat work, when we heard his voice raised in violent dispute withsomebody, whether it was with the mate, or one of the crew, I could nottell; and then came blows and scuffling. I ran to the side andbeckoned to John, who came up, and we leaned down the hatchway; andthough we could see no one, yet we knew that the captain had theadvantage, for his voice was loud and clear--

"You see your condition! You see your condition! Will you ever give meany more of your jaw?" No answer; and then came wrestling and heaving, as though the man was trying to turn him. "You may as well keep still, for I have got you, " said the captain. Then came the question, "Willyou ever give me any more of your jaw?"

"I never gave you any, sir, " said Sam; for it was his voice that weheard, though low and half choked. 

"That's not what I ask you. Will you ever be impudent to me again?"

"I never have been, sir, " said Sam. 

"Answer my question, or I'll make a spread eagle of you! I'll flog you, by G--d. "

"I'm no negro slave, " said Sam. 

"Then I'll make you one, " said the captain; and he came to thehatchway, and sprang on deck, threw off his coat, and rolling up hissleeves, called out to the mate--"Seize that man up, Mr. A----! Seizehim up! Make a spread eagle of him! I'll teach you all who is masteraboard!"

The crew and officers followed the captain up the hatchway, and afterrepeated orders the mate laid hold of Sam, who made no resistance, andcarried him to the gangway. 

"What are you going to flog that man for, sir?" said John, the Swede, to the captain. 

Upon hearing this, the captain turned upon him, but knowing him to bequick and resolute, he ordered the steward to bring the irons, andcalling upon Russell to help him, went up to John. 

"Let me alone, " said John. "I'm willing to be put in irons. You neednot use any force;" and putting out his hands, the captain slipped theirons on, and sent him aft to the quarter-deck. Sam by this time wasseized up, as it is called, that is, placed against the shrouds, withhis wrists made fast to the shrouds, his jacket off, and his backexposed. The captain stood on the break of the deck, a few feet fromhim, and a little raised, so as to have a good swing at him, and heldin his hand the bight of a thick, strong rope. The officers stoodround, and the crew grouped together in the waist. All thesepreparations made me feel sick and almost faint, angry and excited as Iwas. A man--a human being, made in God's likeness--fastened up andflogged like a beast! A man, too, whom I had lived with and eaten withfor months, and knew almost as well as a brother. The first and almostuncontrollable impulse was resistance. But what was to be done? Thetime for it had gone by. The two best men were fast, and there wereonly two beside myself, and a small boy of ten or twelve years of age. And then there were (beside the captain) three officers, steward, agentand clerk. But beside the numbers, what is there for sailors to do? Ifthey resist, it is mutiny; and if they succeed, and take the vessel, itis piracy. If they ever yield again, their punishment must come; and ifthey do not yield, they are pirates for life. If a sailor resist hiscommander, he resists the law, and piracy or submission are his onlyalternatives. Bad as it was, it must be borne. It is what a sailorships for. Swinging the rope over his head, and bending his body so asto give it full force, the captain brought it down upon the poorfellow's back. Once, twice--six times. "Will you ever give me anymore of your jaw?" The man writhed with pain, but said not a word. Three times more. This was too much, and he muttered something which Icould not hear; this brought as many more as the man could stand; whenthe captain ordered him to be cut down, and to go forward. 

"Now for you, " said the captain, making up to John and taking his ironsoff. As soon as he was loose, he ran forward to the forecastle. "Bring that man aft, " shouted the captain. The second mate, who hadbeen a shipmate of John's, stood still in the waist, and the matewalked slowly forward; but our third officer, anxious to show his zeal, sprang forward over the windlass, and laid hold of John; but he soonthrew him from him. At this moment I would have given worlds for thepower to help the poor fellow; but it was all in vain. The captainstood on the quarter-deck, bare-headed, his eyes flashing with rage, and his face as red as blood, swinging the rope, and calling out to hisofficers, "Drag him aft!--Lay hold of him! I'll sweeten him!" etc. , etc. The mate now went forward and told John quietly to go aft; andhe, seeing resistance in vain, threw the blackguard third mate fromhim; said he would go aft of himself; that they should not drag him;and went up to the gangway and held out his hands; but as soon as thecaptain began to make him fast, the indignity was too much, and hebegan to resist; but the mate and Russell holding him, he was soonseized up. When he was made fast, he turned to the captain, who stoodturning up his sleeves and getting ready for the blow, and asked himwhat he was to be flogged for. "Have I ever refused my duty, sir?Have you ever known me to hang back, or to be insolent, or not to knowmy work?"

"No, " said the captain, "it is not that that I flog you for; I flog youfor your interference--for asking questions. "

"Can't a man ask a question here without being flogged?"

"No, " shouted the captain; "nobody shall open his mouth aboard thisvessel, but myself;" and began laying the blows upon his back, swinginghalf round between each blow, to give it full effect. As he went on, his passion increased, and he danced about the deck, calling out as heswung the rope, --"If you want to know what I flog you for, I'll tellyou. It's because I like to do it!--because I like to do it!--It suitsme! That's what I do it for!"

The man writhed under the pain, until he could endure it no longer, when he called out, with an exclamation more common among foreignersthan with us--"Oh, Jesus Christ! Oh, Jesus Christ!"

"Don't call on Jesus Christ, " shouted the captain; "he can't help you. Call on Captain T----, he's the man! He can help you! Jesus Christcan't help you now!"

At these words, which I never shall forget, my blood ran cold. I couldlook on no longer. Disgusted, sick, and horror-struck, I turned awayand leaned over the rail, and looked down into the water. A few rapidthoughts of my own situation, and of the prospect of future revenge, crossed my mind; but the falling of the blows and the cries of the mancalled me back at once. At length they ceased, and turning round, Ifound that the mate, at a signal from the captain had cut him down. Almost doubled up with pain, the man walked slowly forward, and wentdown into the forecastle. Every one else stood still at his post, whilethe captain, swelling with rage and with the importance of hisachievement, walked the quarter-deck, and at each turn, as he cameforward, calling out to us, --"You see your condition! You see whereI've got you all, and you know what to expect!"--"You've been mistakenin me--you didn't know what I was! Now you know what I am!"--"I'llmake you toe the mark, every soul of you, or I'll flog you all, foreand aft, from the boy, up!"--"You've got a driver over you! Yes, aslave-driver--a negro-driver! I'll see who'll tell me he isn't a negroslave!" With this and the like matter, equally calculated to quiet us, and to allay any apprehensions of future trouble, he entertained us forabout ten minutes, when he went below. Soon after, John came aft, withhis bare back covered with stripes and wales in every direction, anddreadfully swollen, and asked the steward to ask the captain to let himhave some salve, or balsam, to put upon it. "No, " said the captain, who heard him from below; "tell him to put his shirt on; that's thebest thing for him; and pull me ashore in the boat. Nobody is going tolay-up on board this vessel. " He then called to Mr. Russell to takethose men and two others in the boat, and pull him ashore. I went forone. The two men could hardly bend their backs, and the captain calledto them to "give way, " "give way!" but finding they did their best, helet them alone. The agent was in the stern sheets, but during thewhole pull--a league or more--not a word was spoken. We landed; thecaptain, agent, and officer went up to the house, and left us with theboat. I, and the man with me, staid near the boat, while John and Samwalked slowly away, and sat down on the rocks. They talked some timetogether, but at length separated, each sitting alone. I had somefears of John. He was a foreigner, and violently tempered, and undersuffering; and he had his knife with him, and the captain was to comedown alone to the boat. But nothing happened; and we went quietly onboard. The captain was probably armed, and if either of them had lifteda hand against him, they would have had nothing before them but flight, and starvation in the woods of California, or capture by the soldiersand Indian blood-hounds, whom the offer of twenty dollars would haveset upon them. 

After the day's work was done, we went down into the forecastle, andate our plain supper; but not a word was spoken. It was Saturdaynight; but there was no song--no "sweethearts and wives. " A gloom wasover everything. The two men lay in their berths, groaning with pain, and we all turned in, but for myself, not to sleep. A sound coming nowand then from the berths of the two men showed that they were awake, asawake they must have been, for they could hardly lie in one posture amoment; the dim, swinging lamp of the forecastle shed its light overthe dark hole in which we lived; and many and various reflections andpurposes coursed through my mind. I thought of our situation, livingunder a tyranny; of the character of the country we were in; of thelength of the voyage, and of the uncertainty attending our return toAmerica; and then, if we should return, of the prospect of obtainingjustice and satisfaction for these poor men; and vowed that if Godshould ever give me the means, I would do something to redress thegrievances and relieve the sufferings of that poor class of beings, ofwhom I then was one. 

The next day was Sunday. We worked as usual, washing decks, etc. , until breakfast-time. After breakfast, we pulled the captain ashore, and finding some hides there which had been brought down the nightbefore, he ordered me to stay ashore and watch them, saying that theboat would come again before night. They left me, and I spent a quietday on the hill, eating dinner with the three men at the little house. Unfortunately, they had no books, and after talking with them andwalking about, I began to grow tired of doing nothing. The littlebrig, the home of so much hardship and suffering, lay in the offing, almost as far as one could see; and the only other thing which brokethe surface of the great bay was a small, desolate-looking island, steep and conical, of a clayey soil, and without the sign of vegetablelife upon it; yet which had a peculiar and melancholy interest to me, for on the top of it were buried the remains of an Englishman, thecommander of a small merchant brig, who died while lying in this port. It was always a solemn and interesting spot to me. There it stood, desolate, and in the midst of desolation; and there were the remains ofone who died and was buried alone and friendless. Had it been a commonburying-place, it would have been nothing. The single bodycorresponded well with the solitary character of everything around. Itwas the only thing in California from which I could ever extractanything like poetry. Then, too, the man died far from home; without afriend near him; by poison, it was suspected, and no one to inquireinto it; and without proper funeral rites; the mate, (as I was told, )glad to have him out of the way, hurrying him up the hill and into theground, without a word or a prayer. 

I looked anxiously for a boat, during the latter part of the afternoon, but none came; until toward sundown, when I saw a speck on the water, and as it drew near, I found it was the gig, with the captain. Thehides, then, were not to go off. The captain came up the hill, with aman, bringing my monkey jacket and a blanket. He looked pretty black, but inquired whether I had enough to eat; told me to make a house outof the hides, and keep myself warm, as I should have to sleep thereamong them, and to keep good watch over them. I got a moment to speakto the man who brought my jacket. 

"How do things go aboard?" said I. 

"Bad enough, " said he; "hard work and not a kind word spoken. "

"What, " said I, "have you been at work all day?"

"Yes! no more Sunday for us. Everything has been moved in the hold, from stem to stern, and from the waterways to the keelson. "

I went up to the house to supper. We had frijoles, (the perpetual foodof the Californians, but which, when well cooked, are the best bean inthe world, ) coffee made of burnt wheat, and hard bread. After our meal, the three men sat down by the light of a tallow candle, with a pack ofgreasy Spanish cards, to the favorite game of "treinta uno, " a sort ofSpanish "everlasting. " I left them and went out to take up my bivouackamong the hides. It was now dark; the vessel was hidden from sight, and except the three men in the house, there was not a living soulwithin a league. The coati (a wild animal of a nature and appearancebetween that of the fox and the wolf) set up their sharp, quick bark, and two owls, at the end of two distant points running out into thebay, on different sides of the hills where I lay, kept up theiralternate, dismal notes. I had heard the sound before at night, but didnot know what it was, until one of the men, who came down to look at myquarters, told me it was the owl. Mellowed by the distance, and heardalone, at night, I thought it was the most melancholy, boding sound Ihad ever heard. Through nearly all the night they kept it up, answering one another slowly, at regular intervals. This was relievedby the noisy coati, some of which came quite near to my quarters, andwere not very pleasant neighbors. The next morning, before sunrise, the long-boat came ashore, and the hides were taken off. 

We lay at San Pedro about a week, engaged in taking off hides and inother labors, which had now become our regular duties. I spent one moreday on the hill, watching a quantity of hides and goods, and this timesucceeded in finding a part of a volume of Scott's Pirate, in a cornerof the house; but it failed me at a most interesting moment, and Ibetook myself to my acquaintances on shore, and from them learned agood deal about the customs of the country, the harbors, etc. This, they told me, was a worse harbor than Santa Barbara, for south-easters;the bearing of the headland being a point and a half more to windward, and it being so shallow that the sea broke often as far out as where welay at anchor. The gale from which we slipped at Santa Barbara, hadbeen so bad a one here, that the whole bay, for a league out, wasfilled with the foam of the breakers, and seas actually broke over theDead Man's island. The Lagoda was lying there, and slipped at thefirst alarm, and in such haste that she was obliged to leave her launchbehind her at anchor. The little boat rode it out for several hours, pitching at her anchor, and standing with her stern up almostperpendicularly. The men told me that they watched her till towardsnight, when she snapped her cable and drove up over the breakers, highand dry upon the beach. 

On board the Pilgrim, everything went on regularly, each one trying toget along as smoothly as possible; but the comfort of the voyage wasevidently at an end. "That is a long lane which has noturning"---"Every dog must have his day, and mine will comeby-and-by"--and the like proverbs, were occasionally quoted; but no onespoke of any probable end to the voyage, or of Boston, or anything ofthe kind; or if he did, it was only to draw out the perpetual, surlyreply from his shipmate--"Boston, is it? You may thank your stars ifyou ever see that place. You had better have your back sheathed, andyour head coppered, and your feet shod, and make out your log forCalifornia for life!" or else something of this kind--"Before you getto Boston the hides will wear the hair off your head, and you'll takeup all your wages in clothes, and won't have enough left to buy a wigwith!"

The flogging was seldom if ever alluded to by us, in the forecastle. Ifany one was inclined to talk about it, the others, with a delicacywhich I hardly expected to find among them, always stopped him, orturned the subject. But the behavior of the two men who were floggedtoward one another showed a delicacy and a sense of honor, which wouldhave been worthy of admiration in the highest walks of life. Sam knewthat the other had suffered solely on his account, and in all hiscomplaints, he said that if he alone had been flogged, it would havebeen nothing; but that he never could see that man without thinkingwhat had been the means of bringing that disgrace upon him; and Johnnever, by word or deed, let anything escape him to remind the otherthat it was by interfering to save his shipmate, that he had suffered. 

Having got all our spare room filled with hides, we hove up our anchorand made sail for San Diego. In no operation can the disposition of acrew be discovered better than in getting under weigh. 

Where things are "done with a will, " every one is like a cat aloft:sails are loosed in an instant; each one lays out his strength on hishandspike, and the windlass goes briskly round with the loud cry of "Yoheave ho! Heave and pawl! Heave hearty ho!" But with us, at this time, it was all dragging work. No one went aloft beyond his ordinary gait, and the chain came slowly in over the windlass. The mate, between theknight-heads, exhausted all his official rhetoric, in calls of "Heavewith a will!"--"Heave hearty, men!--heave hearty!"--"Heave and raisethe dead!"--"Heave, and away!" etc. , etc. ; but it would not do. Nobodybroke his back or his hand-spike by his efforts. And when thecat-tackle-fall was strung along, and all hands--cook, steward, andall--laid hold, to cat the anchor, instead of the lively song of"Cheerily, men!" in which all hands join in the chorus, we pulled along, heavy, silent pull, and--as sailors say a song is as good as tenmen--the anchor came to the cat-head pretty slowly. "Give us'Cheerily!'" said the mate; but there was no "cheerily" for us, and wedid without it. The captain walked the quarterdeck, and said not aword. He must have seen the change, but there was nothing which hecould notice officially. 

We sailed leisurely down the coast before a light fair wind, keepingthe land well aboard, and saw two other missions, looking like blocksof white plaster, shining in the distance; one of which, situated onthe top of a high hill, was San Juan Campestrano, under which vesselssometimes come to anchor, in the summer season, and take off hides. Themost distant one was St. Louis Rey, which the third mate said was onlyfifteen miles from San Diego. At sunset on the second day, we had alarge and well wooded headland directly before us, behind which lay thelittle harbor of San Diego. We were becalmed off this point all night, but the next morning, which was Saturday, the 14th of March, having agood breeze, we stood round the point, and hauling our wind, broughtthe little harbor, which is rather the outlet of a small river, rightbefore us. Every one was anxious to get a view of the new place. Achain of high hills, beginning at the point, (which was on our larboardhand, coming in, ) protected the harbor on the north and west, and ranoff into the interior as far as the eye could reach. On the othersides, the land was low, and green, but without trees. The entrance isso narrow as to admit but one vessel at a time, the current swift, andthe channel runs so near to a low stony point that the ship's sidesappeared almost to touch it. There was no town in sight, but on thesmooth sand beach, abreast, and within a cable's length of which threevessels lay moored, were four large houses, built of rough boards, andlooking like the great barns in which ice is stored on the borders ofthe large ponds near Boston; with piles of hides standing round them, and men in red shirts and large straw hats, walking in and out of thedoors. These were the hide-houses. Of the vessels: one, a short, clumsy, little hermaphrodite brig, we recognized as our oldacquaintance, the Loriotte; another, with sharp bows and raking masts, newly painted and tarred, and glittering in the morning sun, with theblood-red banner and cross of St. George at her peak, was the handsomeAyacucho. The third was a large ship, with top-gallant-masts housed, and sails unbent, and looking as rusty and worn as two years'"hide-droghing" could make her. This was the Lagoda. As we drew near, carried rapidly along by the current, we overhauled our chain, andclewed up the topsails. "Let go the anchor!" said the captain buteither there was not chain enough forward of the windlass, or theanchor went down foul, or we had too much headway on, for it did notbring us up. "Pay out chain!" shouted the captain; and we gave it toher; but it would not do. Before the other anchor could be let go, wedrifted down, broadside on, and went smash into the Lagoda. Her crewwere at breakfast in the forecastle, and the cook, seeing us coming, rushed out of his galley, and called up the officers and men. 

Fortunately no great harm was done. Her jib-boom ran between our foreand main masts, carrying away some of our rigging, and breaking downthe rail. She lost her martingale. This brought us up, and as theypaid out chain, we swung clear of them, and let go the other anchor;but this had as bad luck as the first, for, before any one perceivedit, we were drifting on to the Loriotte. The captain now gave out hisorders rapidly and fiercely, sheeting home the topsails, and backingand filling the sails, in hope of starting or clearing the anchors; butit was all in vain, and he sat down on the rail, taking it veryleisurely, and calling out to Captain Nye, that he was coming to payhim a visit. We drifted fairly into the Loriotte, her larboard bowinto our starboard quarter, carrying away a part of our starboardquarter railing, and breaking off her larboard bumpkin, and one or twostanchions above the deck. We saw our handsome sailor, Jackson, on theforecastle, with the Sandwich Islanders, working away to get us clear. After paying out chain, we swung clear, but our anchors were no doubtafoul of hers. We manned the windlass, and hove, and hove away, but tono purpose. Sometimes we got a little upon the cable, but a good surgewould take it all back again. We now began to drift down toward theAyacucho, when her boat put off and brought her commander, CaptainWilson, on board. He was a short, active, well-built man, betweenfifty and sixty years of age; and being nearly twenty years older thanour captain, and a thorough seaman, he did not hesitate to give hisadvice, and from giving advice, he gradually came to taking thecommand; ordering us when to heave and when to pawl, and backing andfilling the topsails, setting and taking in jib and trysail, wheneverhe thought best. Our captain gave a few orders, but as Wilsongenerally countermanded them, saying, in an easy, fatherly kind of way, "Oh no! Captain T----, you don't want the jib on her, " or "it isn'ttime yet to heave!" he soon gave it up. We had no objections to thisstate of things, for Wilson was a kind old man, and had an encouragingand pleasant way of speaking to us, which made everything go easily. After two or three hours of constant labor at the windlass, heaving and"Yo ho!"-ing with all our might, we brought up an anchor, with theLoriotte's small bower fast to it, Having cleared this and let it go, and cleared our hawse, we soon got our other anchor, which had draggedhalf over the harbor. "Now, " said Wilson, "I'll find you a good berth;"and setting both the topsails, he carried us down, and brought us toanchor, in handsome style, directly abreast of the hide-house which wewere to use. Having done this, he took his leave, while we furled thesails, and got our breakfast, which was welcome to us, for we hadworked hard, and it was nearly twelve o'clock. After breakfast, anduntil night, we were employed in getting out the boats and mooring ship. 

After supper, two of us took the captain on board the Lagoda. As hecame alongside, he gave his name, and the mate, in the gangway, calledout to the captain down the companion-way--"Captain T---- has comeaboard, sir!" "Has he brought his brig with him?" said the rough oldfellow, in a tone which made itself heard fore and aft. This mortifiedour captain a little, and it became a standing joke among us for therest of the voyage. The captain went down into the cabin, and we walkedforward and put our heads down the forecastle, where we found the menat supper, "Come down, shipmates! Come down!" said they, as soon asthey saw us; and we went down, and found a large, high forecastle, welllighted; and a crew of twelve or fourteen men, eating out of their kidsand pans, and drinking their tea, and talking and laughing, all asindependent and easy as so many "wood-sawyer's clerks. " This lookedlike comfort and enjoyment, compared with the dark little forecastle, and scanty, discontented crew of the brig. It was Saturday night; theyhad got through with their work for the week; and being snugly moored, had nothing to do until Monday, again. After two years' hard service, they had seen the worst, and all, of California;--had got their cargonearly stowed, and expected to sail in a week or two, for Boston. Wespent an hour or more with them, talking over California matters, untilthe word was passed--"Pilgrims, away!" and we went back with ourcaptain. They were a hardy, but intelligent crew; a little roughened, and their clothes patched and old, from California wear; all ableseamen, and between the ages of twenty and thirty-five. They inquiredabout our vessel, the usage, etc. , and were not a little surprised atthe story of the flogging. They said there were often difficulties invessels on the coast, and sometimes knock-downs and fightings, but theyhad never heard before of a regular seizing-up and flogging. "Spread-eagles" were a new kind of bird in California. 

Sunday, they said, was always given in San Diego, both at thehide-houses and on board the vessels, a large number usually going upto the town, on liberty. We learned a good deal from them about curingand stowing of hides, etc. And they were anxious to have the latestnews (seven months old) from Boston. One of their first inquiries wasfor Father Taylor, the seamen's preacher in Boston. Then followed theusual strain of conversation, inquiries, stories, and jokes, which, onemust always hear in a ship's forecastle, but which are perhaps, afterall, no worse, nor, indeed, more gross, than that of many well-dressedgentlemen at their clubs. 

CHAPTER XVI

LIBERTY-DAY ON SHORE

The next day being Sunday, after washing and clearing decks, andgetting breakfast, the mate came forward with leave for one watch to goashore, on liberty. We drew lots, and it fell to the larboard, which Iwas in. Instantly all was preparation. Buckets of fresh water, (whichwe were allowed in port, ) and soap, were put in use; go-ashore jacketsand trowsers got out and brushed; pumps, neckerchiefs, and hatsoverhauled; one lending to another; so that among the whole each onegot a good fit-out. A boat was called to pull the "liberty men"ashore, and we sat down in the stern sheets, "as big as paypassengers, " and jumping ashore, set out on our walk for the town, which was nearly three miles off. 

It is a pity that some other arrangement is not made in merchantvessels, with regard to the liberty-day. When in port, the crews arekept at work all the week, and the only day they are allowed for restor pleasure is the Sabbath; and unless they go ashore on that day, theycannot go at all. I have heard of a religious captain who gave hiscrew liberty on Saturdays, after twelve o'clock. This would be a goodplan, if shipmasters would bring themselves to give their crews so muchtime. For young sailors especially, many of whom have been brought upwith a regard for the sacredness of the day, this strong temptation tobreak it, is exceedingly injurious. As it is, it can hardly be expectedthat a crew, on a long and hard voyage, will refuse a few hours offreedom from toil and the restraints of a vessel, and an opportunity totread the ground and see the sights of society and humanity, because itis on a Sunday. It is too much like escaping from prison, or beingdrawn out of a pit, on the Sabbath day. 

I shall never forget the delightful sensation of being in the open air, with the birds singing around me, and escaped from the confinement, labor, and strict rule of a vessel--of being once more in my life, though only for a day, my own master. A sailor's liberty is but for aday; yet while it lasts it is perfect. He is under no one's eye, andcan do whatever, and go wherever, he pleases. This day, for the firsttime, I may truly say, in my whole life, I felt the meaning of a termwhich I had often heard--the sweets of liberty. My friend S---- waswith me, and turning our backs upon the vessels, we walked slowlyalong, talking of the pleasure of being our own masters, of the timespast, and when we were free in the midst of friends, in America, and ofthe prospect of our return; and planning where we would go, and what wewould do, when we reached home. It was wonderful how the prospectbrightened, and how short and tolerable the voyage appeared, whenviewed in this new light. Things looked differently from what they didwhen we talked them over in the little dark forecastle, the night afterthe flogging at San Pedro. It is not the least of the advantages ofallowing sailors occasionally a day of liberty, that it gives them aspring, and makes them feel cheerful and independent, and leads theminsensibly to look on the bright side of everything for some time after. 

S---- and myself determined to keep as much together as possible, though we knew that it would not do to cut our shipmates; for, knowingour birth and education, they were a little suspicious that we wouldtry to put on the gentleman when we got ashore, and would be ashamed oftheir company; and this won't do with Jack. When the voyage is at anend, you may do as you please, but so long as you belong to the samevessel, you must be a shipmate to him on shore, or he will not be ashipmate to you on board. Being forewarned of this before I went tosea, I took no "long togs" with me, and being dressed like the rest, inwhite duck trowsers, blue jacket and straw hat, which would prevent mygoing in better company, and showing no disposition to avoid them, Iset all suspicion at rest. Our crew fell in with some who belonged tothe other vessels, and, sailor-like, steered for the first grog-shop. This was a small mud building, of only one room, in which were liquors, dry and West India goods, shoes, bread, fruits, and everything which isvendible in California. It was kept by a yankee, a one-eyed man, whobelonged formerly to Fall River, came out to the Pacific in awhale-ship, left her at the Sandwich Islands, and came to Californiaand set up a "Pulperia. " S---- and I followed in our shipmates' wake, knowing that to refuse to drink with them would be the highest affront, but determining to slip away at the first opportunity. It is theuniversal custom with sailors for each one, in his turn, to treat thewhole, calling for a glass all round, and obliging every one who ispresent, even the keeper of the shop, to take a glass with him. Whenwe first came in, there was some dispute between our crew and theothers, whether the new comers or the old California rangers shouldtreat first; but it being settled in favor of the latter, each of thecrews of the other vessels treated all round in their turn, and asthere were a good many present, (including some "loafers" who haddropped in, knowing what was going on, to take advantage of Jack'shospitality, ) and the liquor was a real (12½ cents) a glass, it madesomewhat of a hole in their lockers. It was now our ship's turn, andS---- and I, anxious to get away, stepped up to call for glasses; butwe soon found that we must go in order--the oldest first, for the oldsailors did not choose to be preceded by a couple of youngsters; andbon gré mal gré, we had to wait our turn, with the twofold apprehensionof being too late for our horses, and of getting corned; for drink youmust, every time; and if you drink with one and not with another, it isalways taken as an insult. 

Having at length gone through our turns and acquitted ourselves of allobligations, we slipped out, and went about among the houses, endeavoring to get horses for the day, so that we might ride round andsee the country. At first we had but little success, all that we couldget out of the lazy fellows, in reply to our questions, being theeternal drawling "Quien sabe?" ("who knows?") which is an answer to allquestions. After several efforts, we at length fell in with a littleSandwich Island boy, who belonged to Captain Wilson of the Ayacucho, and was well acquainted in the place; and he, knowing where to go, soonprocured us two horses, ready saddled and bridled, each with a lassocoiled over the pommel. These we were to have all day, with theprivilege of riding them down to the beach at night, for a dollar, which we had to pay in advance. Horses are the cheapest thing inCalifornia; the very best not being worth more than ten dollars apiece, and very good ones being often sold for three, and four. In taking aday's ride, you pay for the use of the saddle, and for the labor andtrouble of catching the horses. If you bring the saddle back safe, they care but little what becomes of the horse. Mounted on our horses, which were spirited beasts, and which, by the way, in this country, arealways steered by pressing the contrary rein against the neck, and notby pulling on the bit, --we started off on a fine run over the country. The first place we went to was the old ruinous presidio, which standson a rising ground near the village, which it overlooks. It is builtin the form of an open square, like all the other presidios, and was ina most ruinous state, with the exception of one side, in which thecommandant lived, with his family. There were only two guns, one ofwhich was spiked, and the other had no carriage. Twelve, half clothed, and half starved looking fellows, composed the garrison; and they, itwas said, had not a musket apiece. The small settlement lay directlybelow the fort, composed of about forty dark brown looking huts, orhouses, and two larger ones, plastered, which belonged to two of the"gente de razón. " This town is not more than half as large asMonterey, or Santa Barbara, and has little or no business. From thepresidio, we rode off in the direction of the mission, which we weretold was three miles distant. The country was rather sandy, and therewas nothing for miles which could be called a tree, but the grass grewgreen and rank, and there were many bushes and thickets, and the soilis said to be good. After a pleasant ride of a couple of miles, we sawthe white walls of the mission, and fording a small river, we camedirectly before it. The mission is built of mud, or rather of theunburnt bricks of the country, and plastered. There was somethingdecidedly striking in its appearance: a number of irregular buildings, connected with one another, and disposed in the form of a hollowsquare, with a church at one end, rising above the rest, with a towercontaining five belfries, in each of which hung a large bell, and withimmense rusty iron crosses at the tops. Just outside of the buildings, and under the walls, stood twenty or thirty small huts, built of strawand of the branches of trees, grouped together, in which a few Indianslived, under the protection and in the service of the mission. 

Entering a gate-way, we drove into the open square, in which thestillness of death reigned. On one side was the church; on another, arange of high buildings with grated windows; a third was a range ofsmaller buildings, or offices; and the fourth seemed to be little morethan a high connecting wall. Not a living creature could we see. Werode twice round the square, in the hope of waking up some one; and inone circuit, saw a tall monk, with shaven head, sandals, and the dressof the Grey Friars, pass rapidly through a gallery, but he disappearedwithout noticing us. After two circuits, we stopped our horses, andsaw, at last, a man show himself in front of one of the smallbuildings. We rode up to him, and found him dressed in the commondress of the country, with a silver chain round his neck, supporting alarge bunch of keys. From this, we took him to be the steward of themission, and addressing him as "Mayordomo, " received a low bow and aninvitation to walk into his room. Making our horses fast, we went in. It was a plain room, containing a table, three or four chairs, a smallpicture or two of some saint, or miracle, or martyrdom, and a fewdishes and glasses. "Hay algunas cosa de comer?" said I. "Si Señor!"said he. "Que gusta usted?" Mentioning frijoles, which I knew theymust have if they had nothing else, and beef and bread, and a hint forwine, if they had any, he went off to another building, across thecourt, and returned in a few moments, with a couple of Indian boys, bearing dishes and a decanter of wine. The dishes contained bakedmeats, frijoles stewed with peppers and onions, boiled eggs, andCalifornia flour baked into a kind of macaroni. These, together withthe wine, made the most sumptuous meal we had eaten since we leftBoston; and, compared with the fare we had lived upon for seven months, it was a regal banquet. After despatching our meal, we took out somemoney and asked him how much we were to pay. He shook his head, andcrossed himself, saying that it was charity:--that the Lord gave it tous. Knowing the amount of this to be that he did not sell it, but waswilling to receive a present, we gave him ten or twelve reals, which hepocketed with admirable nonchalance, saying, "Dios se lo pague. "Taking leave of him, we rode out to the Indians' huts. The littlechildren were running about among the huts, stark naked, and the menwere not much better; but the women had generally coarse gowns, of asort of tow cloth. The men are employed, most of the time, in tendingthe cattle of the mission, and in working in the garden, which is avery large one, including several acres, and filled, it is said, withthe best fruits of the climate. The language of these people, which isspoken by all the Indians of California, is the most brutish andinhuman language, without any exception, that I ever heard, or thatcould well be conceived of. It is a complete slabber. The words falloff of the ends of their tongues, and a continual slabbering sound ismade in the cheeks, outside of the teeth. It cannot have been thelanguage of Montezuma and the independent Mexicans. 

Here, among the huts, we saw the oldest man that I had ever seen; and, indeed, I never supposed that a person could retain life and exhibitsuch marks of age. He was sitting out in the sun, leaning against theside of a hut; and his legs and arms, which were bare, were of a darkred color, the skin withered and shrunk up like burnt leather, and thelimbs not larger round than those of a boy of five years. He had a fewgrey hairs, which were tied together at the back of his head; and hewas so feeble that, when we came up to him, he raised his hands slowlyto his face, and taking hold of his lids with his fingers, lifted themup to look at us; and being satisfied, let them drop again. Allcommand over the lid seemed to have gone. I asked his age, but couldget no answer but "Quien sabe?" and they probably did not know the age. 

Leaving the mission, we returned to village, going nearly all the wayon a full run. The California horses have no medium gait, which ispleasant, between walking and running; for as there are no streets andparades, they have no need of the genteel trot, and their ridersusually keep them at the top of their speed until they are fired, andthen let them rest themselves by walking. The fine air of theafternoon; the rapid rate of the animals, who seemed almost to fly overthe ground; and the excitement and novelty of the motion to us, who hadbeen so long confined on shipboard, were exhilarating beyondexpression, and we felt willing to ride all day long. Coming into thevillage, we found things looking very lively. The Indians, who alwayshave a holyday on Sunday, were engaged at playing a kind of runninggame of ball, on a level piece of ground, near the houses. The oldones sat down in a ring, looking on, while the young ones--men, boysand girls--were chasing the ball, and throwing it with all their might. Some of the girls ran like greyhounds. At every accident, orremarkable feat, the old people set up a deafening screaming andclapping of hands. Several blue jackets were reeling about among thehouses, which showed that the pulperias had been well patronized. Oneor two of the sailors had got on horseback, but being ratherindifferent horsemen, and the Spaniards having given them vicioushorses, they were soon thrown, much to the amusement of the people. Ahalf dozen Sandwich Islanders, from the hide-houses and the two brigs, who are bold riders, were dashing about on the full gallop, hallooingand laughing like so many wild men. 

It was now nearly sundown, and S---- and myself went into a house andsat quietly down to rest ourselves before going down to the beach. Several people were soon collected to see "los Ingles marineros, " andone of them--a young woman--took a great fancy to my pockethandkerchief, which was a large silk one that I had before going tosea, and a handsomer one than they had been in the habit of seeing. Ofcourse, I gave it to her; which brought us into high favor; and we hada present of some pears and other fruits, which we took down to thebeach with us. When we came to leave the house, we found that ourhorses, which we left tied at the door, were both gone. We had paidfor them to ride down to the beach, but they were not to be found. Wewent to the man of whom we hired them, but he only shrugged hisshoulders, and to our question, "Where are the horses?" onlyanswered--"Quien sabe?" but as he was very easy, and made no inquiriesfor the saddles, we saw that he knew very well where they were. Aftera little trouble, determined not to walk down, --a distance of threemiles--we procured two, at four reals apiece, with an Indian boy to runon behind and bring them back. Determined to have "the go" out of thehorses, for our trouble, we went down at full speed, and were on thebeach in fifteen minutes. Wishing to make our liberty last as long aspossible, we rode up and down among the hide-houses, amusing ourselveswith seeing the men, as they came down, (it was now dusk, ) some onhorseback and others on foot. The Sandwich Islanders rode down, andwere in "high snuff. " We inquired for our shipmates, and were told thattwo of them had started on horseback and had been thrown or had fallenoff, and were seen heading for the beach, but steering pretty wild, andby the looks of things, would not be down much before midnight. 

The Indian boys having arrived, we gave them our horses, and havingseen them safely off, hailed for a boat and went aboard. Thus ended ourfirst liberty-day on shore. We were well tired, but had had a goodtime, and were more willing to go back to our old duties. Aboutmidnight, we were waked up by our two watchmates, who had come aboardin high dispute. It seems they had started to come down on the samehorse, double-backed; and each was accusing the other of being thecause of his fall. They soon, however, turned-in and fell asleep, andprobably forgot all about it, for the next morning the dispute was notrenewed. 

CHAPTER XVII

SAN DIEGO--A DESERTION--SAN PEDRO AGAIN--BEATING THE COAST

The next sound we heard was "All hands ahoy!" and looking up thescuttle, saw that it was just daylight. Our liberty had now trulytaken flight, and with it we laid away our pumps, stockings, bluejackets, neckerchiefs, and other go-ashore paraphernalia, and puttingon old duck trowsers, red shirts, and Scotch caps, began taking out andlanding our hides. For three days we were hard at work, from the greyof the morning until starlight, with the exception of a short timeallowed for meals, in this duty. For landing and taking on board hides, San Diego is decidedly the best place in California. The harbor issmall and land-locked; there is no surf; the vessels lie within acable's length of the beach; and the beach itself is smooth, hard sand, without rocks or stones. For these reasons, it is used by all thevessels in the trade, as a depot; and, indeed, it would be impossible, when loading with the cured hides for the passage home, to take them onboard at any of the open ports, without getting them wet in the surf, which would spoil them. We took possession of one of the hide-houses, which belonged to our firm, and had been used by the California. It wasbuilt to hold forty thousand hides, and we had the pleasing prospect offilling it before we could leave the coast; and toward this, ourthirty-five hundred, which we brought down with us, would do butlittle. There was not a man on board who did not go a dozen times intothe house, and look round, and make some calculation of the time itwould require. 

The hides, as they come rough and uncured from the vessels, are piledup outside of the houses, whence they are taken and carried through aregular process of pickling, drying, cleaning, etc. , and stowed away inthe house, ready to be put on board. This process is necessary inorder that they may keep, during a long voyage, and in warm latitudes. For the purpose of curing and taking care of these hides, an officerand a part of the crew of each vessel are usually left ashore and itwas for this business, we found, that our new officer had joined us. As soon as the hides were landed, he took charge of the house, and thecaptain intended to leave two or three of us with him, hiring SandwichIslanders to take our places on board; but he could not get anySandwich Islanders to go, though he offered them fifteen dollars amonth; for the report of the flogging had got among them, and he wascalled "aole maikai, " (no good, ) and that was an end of the business. They were, however, willing to work on shore, and four of them werehired and put with Mr. Russell to cure the hides. 

After landing our hides, we next sent ashore all our spare spars andrigging; all the stores which we did not want to use in the course ofone trip to windward; and, in fact, everything which we could spare, soas to make room for hides: among other things, the pig-sty, and with it"old Bess. " This was an old sow that we had brought from Boston, andwhich lived to get around Cape Horn, where all the other pigs died fromcold and wet. Report said that she had been a Canton voyage before. She had been the pet of the cook during the whole passage, and he hadfed her with the best of everything, and taught her to know his voice, and to do a number of strange tricks for his amusement. Tom Cringlesays that no one can fathom a negro's affection for a pig; and Ibelieve he is right, for it almost broke our poor darky's heart when heheard that Bess was to be taken ashore, and that he was to have thecare of her no more during the whole voyage. He had depended upon heras a solace, during the long trips up and down the coast. "Obey orders, if you break owners!" said he. "Break hearts, " he meant to have said;and lent a hand to get her over the side, trying to make it as easy forher as possible. We got a whip up on the main-yard, and hooking it toa strap around her body, swayed away; and giving a wink to one another, ran her chock up to the yard. "'Vast there! 'vast!" said the mate;"none of your skylarking! Lower away!" But he evidently enjoyed thejoke. The pig squealed like the "crack of doom, " and tears stood inthe poor darky's eyes; and he muttered something about having no pityon a dumb beast. "Dumb beast!" said Jack; "if she's what you call adumb beast, then my eyes a'n't mates. " This produced a laugh from allbut the cook. He was too intent upon seeing her safe in the boat. Hewatched her all the way ashore, where, upon her landing, she wasreceived by a whole troop of her kind, who had been sent ashore fromthe other vessels, and had multiplied and formed a large commonwealth. From the door of his galley, the cook used to watch them in theirmanoeuvres, setting up a shout and clapping his hands whenever Besscame off victorious in the struggles for pieces of raw hide andhalf-picked bones which were lying about the beach. During the day, hesaved all the nice things, and made a bucket of swill, and asked us totake it ashore in the gig, and looked quite disconcerted when the matetold him that he would pitch the swill overboard, and him after it, ifhe saw any of it go into the boats. We told him that he thought moreabout the pig than he did about his wife, who lived down in Robinson'sAlley; and, indeed, he could hardly have been more attentive, for heactually, on several nights, after dark, when he thought he would nothe seen, sculled himself ashore in a boat with a bucket of nice swill, and returned like Leander from crossing the Hellespont. 

The next Sunday the other half of our crew went ashore on liberty, andleft us on board, to enjoy the first quiet Sunday which we had had uponthe coast. Here were no hides to come off, and no south-easters tofear. We washed and mended our clothes in the morning, and spent therest of the day in reading and writing. Several of us wrote letters tosend home by the Lagoda. At twelve o'clock the Ayacucho dropped herfore topsail, which was a signal for her sailing. She unmoored andwarped down into the bight, from which she got under way. During thisoperation, her crew were a long time heaving at the windlass, and Ilistened for nearly an hour to the musical notes of a SandwichIslander, called Mahannah, who "sang out" for them. Sailors, whenheaving at a windlass, in order that they may heave together, alwayshave one to sing out; which is done in a peculiar, high and long-drawnnote, varying with the motion of the windlass. This requires a highvoice, strong lungs, and much practice, to be done well. This fellowhad a very peculiar, wild sort of note, breaking occasionally into afalsetto. The sailors thought it was too high, and not enough of theboatswain hoarseness about it; but to me it had a great charm. Theharbor was perfectly still, and his voice rang among the hills, asthough it could have been heard for miles. Toward sundown, a goodbreeze having sprung up, she got under weigh, and with her long, sharphead cutting elegantly through the water, on a taught bowline, shestood directly out of the harbor, and bore away to the southward. Shewas bound to Callao, and thence to the Sandwich Islands, and expectedto be on the coast again in eight or ten months. 

At the close of the week we were ready to sail, but were delayed a dayor two by the running away of F----, the man who had been our secondmate, and was turned forward. From the time that he was "broken, " hehad had a dog's berth on board the vessel, and determined to run awayat the first opportunity. Having shipped for an officer when he was nothalf a seaman, he found little pity with the crew, and was not manenough to hold his ground among them. The captain called him a"soger, "[1] and promised to "ride him down as he would the main tack;"and when officers are once determined to "ride a man down, " it is agone case with him. He had had several difficulties with the captain, and asked leave to go home in the Lagoda; but this was refused him. Onenight he was insolent to an officer on the beach, and refused to comeaboard in the boat. He was reported to the captain; and as he cameaboard, --it being past the proper hour, --he was called aft, and toldthat he was to have a flogging. Immediately, he fell down on the deck, calling out--"Don't flog me, Captain T----; don't flog me!" and thecaptain, angry with him, and disgusted with his cowardice, gave him afew blows over the back with a rope's end and sent him forward. He wasnot much hurt, but a good deal frightened, and made up his mind to runaway that very night. This was managed better than anything he everdid in his life, and seemed really to show some spirit and forethought. He gave his bedding and mattress to one of the Lagoda's crew, who tookit aboard his vessel as something which he had bought, and promised tokeep it for him. He then unpacked his chest, putting all his valuableclothes into a large canvas bag, and told one of us, who had the watch, to call him at midnight. Coming on deck, at midnight, and finding noofficer on deck, and all still aft, he lowered his bag into a boat, gotsoftly down into it, cast off the painter, and let it drop silentlywith the tide until he was out of hearing, when he sculled ashore. 

The next morning, when all hands were mustered, there was a great stirto find F----. Of course, we would tell nothing, and all they coulddiscover was, that he had left an empty chest behind him, and that hewent off in a boat; for they saw it lying up high and dry on the beach. After breakfast, the captain went up to the town, and offered a rewardof twenty dollars for him; and for a couple of days, the soldiers, Indians, and all others who had nothing to do, were scouring thecountry for him, on horseback, but without effect; for he was safelyconcealed, all the time, within fifty rods of the hide-houses. As soonas he had landed, he went directly to the Lagoda's hide-house, and apart of her crew, who were living there on shore, promised to concealhim and his traps until the Pilgrim should sail, and then to intercedewith Captain Bradshaw to take him on board the ship. Just behind thehide-houses, among the thickets and underwood, was a small cave, theentrance to which was known only to two men on the beach, and which wasso well concealed that, though, when I afterwards came to live onshore, it was shown to me two or three times, I was never able to findit alone. To this cave he was carried before daybreak in the morning, and supplied with bread and water, and there remained until he saw usunder weigh and well round the point. 

Friday, March 27th. The captain, having given up all hope of findingF----, and being unwilling to delay any longer, gave orders forunmooring the ship, and we made sail, dropping slowly down with thetide and light wind. We left letters with Captain Bradshaw to take toBoston, and had the satisfaction of hearing him say that he should beback again before we left the coast. The wind, which was very light, died away soon after we doubled the point, and we lay becalmed for twodays, not moving three miles the whole time, and a part of the secondday were almost within sight of the vessels. On the third day, aboutnoon, a cool sea-breeze came rippling and darkening the surface of thewater, and by sundown we were off San Juan's, which is about fortymiles from San Diego, and is called half way to San Pedro, where wewere now bound. Our crew was now considerably weakened. One man we hadlost overboard; another had been taken aft as clerk; and a third hadrun away; so that, beside S---- and myself, there were only three ableseamen and one boy of twelve years of age. With this diminished anddiscontented crew, and in a small vessel, we were now to battle thewatch through a couple of years of hard service; yet there was not onewho was not glad that F---- had escaped; for, shiftless and good fornothing as he was, no one could wish to see him dragging on a miserablelife, cowed down and disheartened; and we were all rejoiced to hear, upon our return to San Diego, about two months afterwards, that he hadbeen immediately taken aboard the Lagoda, and went home in her, onregular seaman's wages. 

After a slow passage of five days, we arrived, on Wednesday, the firstof April, at our old anchoring ground at San Pedro. The bay was asdeserted, and looked as dreary, as before, and formed no pleasingcontrast with the security and snugness of San Diego, and the activityand interest which the loading and unloading of four vessels gave tothat scene. In a few days the hides began to come slowly down, and wegot into the old business of rolling goods up the hill, pitching hidesdown, and pulling our long league off and on. Nothing of note occurredwhile we were lying here, except that an attempt was made to repair thesmall Mexican brig which had been cast away in a south-easter, andwhich now lay up, high and dry, over one reef of rocks and twosand-banks. Our carpenter surveyed her, and pronounced her capable ofrefitting, and in a few days the owners came down from the Pueblo, and, waiting for the high spring tides, with the help of our cables, kedges, and crew, got her off and afloat, after several trials. The three menat the house on shore, who had formerly been a part of her crew, nowjoined her, and seemed glad enough at the prospect of getting off thecoast. 

On board our own vessel, things went on in the common monotonous way. The excitement which immediately followed the flogging scene had passedoff, but the effect of it upon the crew, and especially upon the twomen themselves, remained. The different manner in which these men wereaffected, corresponding to their different characters, was not a littleremarkable. John was a foreigner and high-tempered, and, thoughmortified, as any one would be at having had the worst of an encounter, yet his chief feeling seemed to be anger; and he talked much ofsatisfaction and revenge, if he ever got back to Boston. But with theother, it was very different. He was an American, and had had someeducation; and this thing coming upon him, seemed completely to breakhim down. He had a feeling of the degradation that had been inflictedupon him, which the other man was incapable of. Before that, he had agood deal of fun, and mused us often with queer negro stories, --(he wasfrom a slave state); but afterwards he seldom smiled; seemed to loseall life and elasticity; and appeared to have but one wish, and thatwas for the voyage to be at an end. I have often known him to draw along sigh when he was alone, and he took but little part or interest inJohn's plans of satisfaction and retaliation. 

After a stay of about a fortnight, during which we slipped for onesouth-easter, and were at sea two days, we got under weigh for SantaBarbara. It was now the middle of April, and the south-easter seasonwas nearly over; and the light, regular trade-winds, which blow downthe coast, began to set steadily in, during the latter part of eachday. Against these, we beat slowly up to Santa Barbara--a distance ofabout ninety miles--in three days. There we found, lying at anchor, the large Genoese ship which we saw in the same place, on the first dayof our coming upon the coast. She had been up to San Francisco, or, asit is called, "chock up to windward, " had stopped at Monterey on herway down, and was shortly to proceed to San Pedro and San Diego, andthence, taking in her cargo, to sail for Valparaiso and Cadiz. She wasa large, clumsy ship, and with her topmasts stayed forward, and highpoop-deck, looked like an old woman with a crippled back. It was nowthe close of Lent, and on Good Friday she had all her yardsa'cock-bill, which is customary among Catholic vessels. Some also havean effigy of Judas, which the crew amuse themselves with keel-haulingand hanging by the neck from the yard-arms. 

[1] Soger (soldier) is the worst term of reproach that can be appliedto a sailor. It signifies a skulk, a sherk, --one who is always tryingto get clear of work, and is out of the way, or hanging back, when dutyis to be done. "Marine" is the term applied more particularly to a manwho is ignorant and clumsy about seaman's work--a green-horn--aland-lubber. To make a sailor shoulder a handspike, and walk fore andaft the deck, like a sentry, is the most ignominious punishment thatcould be put upon him. Such a punishment inflicted upon an able seamanin a vessel of war, would break his spirit down more than a flogging. 

CHAPTER XVIII

EASTER SUNDAY--"SAIL HO!"--WHALES--SAN JUAN--ROMANCE OFHIDE-DROGHING--SAN DIEGO AGAIN

The next Sunday was Easter Sunday, and as there had been no liberty atSan Pedro, it was our turn to go ashore and misspend another Sabbath. Soon after breakfast, a large boat, filled with men in blue jackets, scarlet caps, and various colored under-clothes, bound ashore onliberty, left the Italian ship, and passed under our stern; the mensinging beautiful Italian boat-songs, all the way, in fine, fullchorus. Among the songs I recognized the favorite "O Pescator dell'onda. " It brought back to my mind pianofortes, drawing-rooms, youngladies singing, and a thousand other things which as little befittedme, in my situation, to be thinking upon. Supposing that the whole daywould be too long a time to spend ashore, as there was no place towhich we could take a ride, we remained quietly on board until afterdinner. We were then pulled ashore in the stern of the boat, and, withorders to be on the beach at sundown, we took our way for the town. There, everything wore the appearance of a holyday. The people wereall dressed in their best; the men riding about on horseback among thehouses, and the women sitting on carpets before the doors. Under thepiazza of a "pulperia, " two men were seated, decked out with knots ofribbons and bouquets, and playing the violin and the Spanish guitar. These are the only instruments, with the exception of the drums andtrumpets at Monterey that I ever heard in California; and I suspectthey play upon no others, for at a great fandango at which I wasafterwards present, and where they mustered all the music they couldfind, there were three violins and two guitars, and no otherinstrument. As it was now too near the middle of the day to see anydancing and hearing that a bull was expected down from the country, tobe baited in the presidio square, in the course of an hour or two wetook a stroll among the houses. Inquiring for an American who, we hadbeen told, had married in the place, and kept a shop, we were directedto a long, low building, at the end of which was a door, with a signover it, in Spanish. Entering the shop, we found no one in it, and thewhole had an empty, deserted appearance. In a few minutes the man madehis appearance, and apologized for having nothing to entertain us with, saying that he had had a fandango at his house the night before, andthe people had eaten and drunk up everything. 

"Oh yes!" said I, "Easter holydays?"

"No!" said he, with a singular expression to his face; "I had a littledaughter die the other day, and that's the custom of the country. "

Here I felt a little strangely, not knowing what to say, or whether tooffer consolation or no, and was beginning to retire, when he opened aside door and told us to walk in. Here I was no less astonished; for Ifound a large room, filled with young girls, from three or four yearsof age up to fifteen and sixteen, dressed all in white, with wreaths offlowers on their heads, and bouquets in their hands. Following ourconductor through all these girls, who were playing about in highspirits, we came to a table, at the end of the room, covered with awhite cloth, on which lay a coffin, about three feet long, with thebody of his child. The coffin was lined on the outside with whitecloth, and on the inside with white satin, and was strewed withflowers. Through an open door we saw, in another room, a few elderlypeople in common dresses; while the benches and tables thrown up in acorner, and the stained walls, gave evident signs of the last night's"high go. " Feeling, like Garrick, between tragedy and comedy, anuncertainty of purpose and a little awkwardness, I asked the man whenthe funeral would take place, and being told that it would move towardthe mission in about an hour, took my leave. 

To pass away the time, we took horses and rode down to the beach, andthere found three or four Italian sailors, mounted, and riding up anddown, on the hard sand, at a furious rate. We joined them, and foundit fine sport. The beach gave us a stretch of a mile or more, and thehorses flew over the smooth, hard sand, apparently invigorated andexcited by the salt sea-breeze, and by the continual roar and dashingof the breakers. From the beach we returned to the town, and findingthat the funeral procession had moved, rode on and overtook it, abouthalf-way to the mission. Here was as peculiar a sight as we had seenbefore in the house; the one looking as much like a funeral processionas the other did like a house of mourning. The little coffin was borneby eight girls, who were continually relieved by others, runningforward from the procession and taking their places. Behind it came astraggling company of girls, dressed as before, in white and flowers, and including, I should suppose by their numbers, nearly all the girlsbetween five and fifteen in the place. They played along on the way, frequently stopping and running all together to talk to some one, or topick up a flower, and then running on again to overtake the coffin. There were a few elderly women in common colors; and a herd of youngmen and boys, some on foot and others mounted, followed them, or walkedor rode by their side, frequently interrupting them by jokes andquestions. But the most singular thing of all was, that two men walked, one on each side of the coffin, carrying muskets in their hands, whichthey continually loaded, and fired into the air. Whether this was tokeep off the evil spirits or not, I do not know. It was the onlyinterpretation that I could put upon it. 

As we drew near the mission, we saw the great gate thrown open, and thepádre standing on the steps, with a crucifix in hand. The mission is alarge and deserted-looking place, the out-buildings going to ruin, andeverything giving one the impression of decayed grandeur. A largestone fountain threw out pure water, from four mouths, into a basin, before the church door; and we were on the point of riding up to letour horses drink, when it occurred to us that it might be consecrated, and we forbore. Just at this moment, the bells set up their harsh, discordant clang; and the procession moved into the court. I wasanxious to follow, and see the ceremony, but the horse of one of mycompanions had become frightened, and was tearing off toward the town;and having thrown his rider, and got one of his feet caught in thesaddle, which had slipped, was fast dragging and ripping it to pieces. Knowing that my shipmate could not speak a word of Spanish, and fearingthat he would get into difficulty, I was obliged to leave the ceremonyand ride after him. I soon overtook him, trudging along, swearing atthe horse, and carrying the remains of the saddle, which he had pickedup on the road. Going to the owner of the horse, we made a settlementwith him, and found him surprisingly liberal. All parts of the saddlewere brought back, and, being capable of repair, he was satisfied withsix reáls. We thought it would have been a few dollars. We pointed tothe horse, which was now half way up one of the mountains; but he shookhis head, saying, "No importe!" and giving us to understand that he hadplenty more. 

Having returned to the town, we saw a great crowd collected in thesquare before the principal pulperia, and riding up, found that allthese people--men, women, and children--had been drawn together by acouple of bantam cocks. The cocks were in full tilt, springing intoone another, and the people were as eager, laughing and shouting, asthough the combatants had been men. There had been a disappointmentabout the bull; he had broken his bail, and taken himself off, and itwas too late to get another; so the people were obliged to put up witha cock-fight. One of the bantams having been knocked in the head, andhad an eye put out, he gave in, and two monstrous prize-cocks werebrought on. These were the object of the whole affair; the two bantamshaving been merely served up as a first course, to collect the peopletogether. Two fellows came into the ring holding the cocks in theirarms, and stroking them, and running about on all fours, encouragingand setting them on. Bets ran high, and, like most other contests, itremained for some time undecided. They both showed great pluck, andfought probably better and longer than their masters would have done. Whether, in the end, it was the white or the red that beat, I do notrecollect; but, whichever it was, he strutted off with the trueveni-vidi-vici look, leaving the other lying panting on his beam-ends. 

This matter having been settled, we heard some talk about "caballos"and "carrera" and seeing the people all streaming off in one direction, we followed, and came upon a level piece of ground, just out of thetown, which was used as a race-course. Here the crowd soon becamethick again; the ground was marked off; the judges stationed; and thehorses led up to one end. Two fine-looking old gentlemen--Don Carlosand Don Domingo, so called--held the stakes, and all was now ready. Wewaited some time, during which we could just see the horses twistinground and turning, until, at length, there was a shout along the lines, and on they came--heads stretched out and eyes starting;--working allover, both man and beast. The steeds came by us like a couple ofchain-shot--neck and neck; and now we could see nothing but theirbacks, and their hind hoofs flying in the air. As fast as the horsespassed, the crowd broke up behind them, and ran to the goal. When wegot there, we found the horses returning on a slow walk, having run farbeyond the mark, and heard that the long, bony one had come in head andshoulders before the other. The riders were light-built men; hadhandkerchiefs tied round their heads; and were bare-armed andbare-legged. The horses were noble-looking beasts, not so sleek andcombed as our Boston stable-horses, but with fine limbs, and spiritedeyes. After this had been settled, and fully talked over, the crowdscattered again and flocked back to the town. 

Returning to the large pulperia, we found the violin and guitarscreaming and twanging away under the piazza, where they had been allday. As it was now sundown, there began to be some dancing. TheItalian sailors danced, and one of our crew exhibited himself in a sortof West India shuffle, much to the amusement of the bystanders, whocried out, "Bravo!" "Otra vez!" and "Vivan los marineros!" but thedancing did not become general, as the women and the "gente de razón"had not yet made their appearance. We wished very much to stay and seethe style of dancing; but, although we had had our own way during theday, yet we were, after all, but 'foremast Jacks; and having beenordered to be on the beach by sundown, did not venture to be more thanan hour behind the time; so we took our way down. We found the boatjust pulling ashore through the breakers, which were running high, there having been a heavy fog outside, which, from some cause or other, always brings on, or precedes a heavy sea. Liberty-men are privilegedfrom the time they leave the vessel until they step on board again; sowe took our places in the stern sheets, and were congratulatingourselves upon getting off dry, when a great comber broke fore and aftthe boat, and wet us through and through, filling the boat half full ofwater. Having lost her buoyancy by the weight of the water, shedropped heavily into every sea that struck her, and by the time we hadpulled out of the surf into deep water, she was but just afloat, and wewere up to our knees. By the help of a small bucket and our hats, webailed her out, got on board, hoisted the boats, eat our supper, changed our clothes, gave (as is usual) the whole history of our day'sadventures to those who had staid on board, and having taken anight-smoke, turned-in. Thus ended our second day's liberty on shore. 

On Monday morning, as an offset to our day's sport, we were all set towork "tarring down" the rigging. Some got girt-lines up for ridingdown the stays and back-stays, and others tarred the shrouds, lifts, etc. , laying out on the yards, and coming down the rigging. Weoverhauled our bags and took out our old tarry trowsers and frocks, which we had used when we tarred down before, and were all at work inthe rigging by sunrise. After breakfast, we had the satisfaction ofseeing the Italian ship's boat go ashore, filled with men, gailydressed, as on the day before, and singing their barcarollas. TheEaster holydays are kept up on shore during three days; and being aCatholic vessel, the Crew had the advantage of them. For twosuccessive days, while perched up in the rigging, covered with tar andengaged in our disagreeable work, we saw these fellows going ashore inthe morning, and coming off again at night, in high spirits. So muchfor being Protestants. There's no danger of Catholicism's spreading inNew England; Yankees can't afford the time to be Catholics. Americanshipmasters get nearly three weeks more labor out of their crews, inthe course of a year, than the masters of vessels from Catholiccountries. Yankees don't keep Christmas, and ship-masters at sea neverknow when Thanksgiving comes, so Jack has no festival at all. 

About noon, a man aloft called out "Sail ho!" and looking round, we sawthe head sails of a vessel coming round the point. As she drew round, she showed the broadside of a full-rigged brig, with the Yankee ensignat her peak. We ran up our stars and stripes, and, knowing that therewas no American brig on the coast but ourselves, expected to have newsfrom home. She rounded-to and let go her anchor, but the dark faces onher yards, when they furled the sails, and the Babel on deck, soon madeknown that she was from the Islands. Immediately afterwards, a boat'screw came aboard, bringing her skipper, and from them we learned thatshe was from Oahu, and was engaged in the same trade with the Ayacucho, Loriotte, etc. , between the coast, the Sandwich Islands, and theleeward coast of Peru and Chili. Her captain and officers wereAmericans, and also a part of her crew; the rest were Islanders. Shewas called the Catalina, and, like all the others vessels in thattrade, except the Ayacucho, her papers and colors were from Uncle Sam. They, of course, brought us no news, and we were doubly disappointed, for we had thought, at first, it might be the ship which we wereexpecting from Boston. 

After lying here about a fortnight, and collecting all the hides theplace afforded, we set sail again for San Pedro. There we found thebrig which we had assisted in getting off lying at anchor, with a mixedcrew of Americans, English, Sandwich Islanders, Spaniards, and SpanishIndians; and, though much smaller than we, yet she had three times thenumber of men; and she needed them, for her officers were Californians. No vessels in the world go so poorly manned as American and English;and none do so well. A Yankee brig of that size would have had a crewof four men, and would have worked round and round her. The Italianship had a crew of thirty men; nearly three times as many as the Alert, which was afterwards on the coast, and was of the same size; yet theAlert would get under weigh and come-to in half the time, and get twoanchors, while they were all talking at once--jabbering like a parcelof "Yahoos, " and running about decks to find their cat-block. 

There was only one point in which they had the advantage over us, andthat was in lightening their labors in the boats by their songs. TheAmericans are a time and money saving people, but have not yet, as anation, learned that music may be "turned to account. " We pulled thelong distances to and from the shore, with our loaded boats, without aword spoken, and with discontented looks, while they not only lightenedthe labor of rowing, but actually made it pleasant and cheerful, bytheir music. So true is it, that--

 "For the tired slave, song lifts the languid oar, And bids it aptly fall, with chime That beautifies the fairest shore, And mitigates the harshest clime. "

We lay about a week in San Pedro, and got under weigh for San Diego, intending to stop at San Juan, as the south-easter season was nearlyover, and there was little or no danger. 

This being the spring season, San Pedro, as well as all the other openports upon the coast, was filled with whales, that had come in to maketheir annual visit upon soundings. For the first few days that we werehere and at Santa Barbara, we watched them with great interest--callingout "there she blows!" every time we saw the spout of one breaking thesurface of the water; but they soon became so common that we tooklittle notice of them. They often "broke" very near us; and one thick, foggy night, during a dead calm, while I was standing anchor-watch, oneof them rose so near, that he struck our cable, and made all surgeagain. He did not seem to like the encounter much himself, for hesheered off, and spouted at a good distance. We once came very nearrunning one down in the gig, and should probably have been knocked topieces and blown sky-high. We had been on board the little Spanishbrig, and were returning, stretching out well at our oars, the littleboat going like a swallow; our backs were forward, (as is always thecase in pulling, ) and the captain, who was steering, was not lookingahead, when, all at once, we heard the spout of a whale directly ahead. "Back water! back water, for your lives!" shouted the captain; and webacked our blades in the water and brought the boat to in a smother offoam. Turning our heads, we saw a great, rough, hump-backed whale, slowly crossing our fore foot, within three or four yards of the boat'sstem. Had we not backed water just as we did, we should inevitablyhave gone smash upon him, striking him with our stem just aboutamidships. He took no notice of us, but passed slowly on, and dived afew yards beyond us, throwing his tail high in the air. He was so nearthat we had a perfect view of him and as may be supposed, had no desireto see him nearer. He was a disgusting creature; with a skin rough, hairy, and of an iron-grey color. This kind differs much from thesperm, in color and skin, and is said to be fiercer. We saw a fewsperm whales; but most of the whales that come upon the coast arefin-backs, hump-backs, and right-whales, which are more difficult totake, and are said not to give oil enough to pay for the trouble. Forthis reason whale-ships do not come upon the coast after them. Ourcaptain, together with Captain Nye of the Loriotte, who had been in awhale-ship, thought of making an attempt upon one of them with twoboats' crews, but as we had only two harpoons and no proper lines, theygave it up. 

During the months of March, April, and May, these whales appear ingreat numbers in the open ports of Santa Barbara, San Pedro, etc. , andhover off the coast, while a few find their way into the close harborsof San Diego and Monterey. They are all off again before midsummer, and make their appearance on the "off-shore ground. " We saw some fine"schools" of sperm whales, which are easily distinguished by theirspout, blowing away, a few miles to windward, on our passage to SanJuan. 

Coasting along on the quiet shore of the Pacific, we came to anchor, intwenty fathoms' water, almost out at sea, as it were, and directlyabreast of a steep hill which overhung the water, and was twice as highas our royal-mast-head. We had heard much of this place, from theLagoda's crew, who said it was the worst place in California. The shoreis rocky, and directly exposed to the south-east, so that vessels areobliged to slip and run for their lives on the first sign of a gale;and late as it was in the season, we got up our slip-rope and gear, though we meant to stay only twenty-four hours. We pulled the agentashore, and were ordered to wait for him, while he took a circuitousway round the hill to the mission, which was hidden behind it. We wereglad of the opportunity to examine this singular place, and hauling theboat up and making her well fast, took different directions up and downthe beach, to explore it. 

San Juan is the only romantic spot in California. The country here forseveral miles is high table-land, running boldly to the shore, andbreaking off in a steep hill, at the foot of which the waters of thePacific are constantly dashing. For several miles the water washes thevery base of the hill, or breaks upon ledges and fragments of rockswhich run out into the sea. Just where we landed was a small cove, or"bight, " which gave us, at high tide, a few square feet of sand-beachbetween the sea and the bottom of the hill. This was the onlylanding-place. Directly before us, rose the perpendicular height offour or five hundred feet. How we were to get hides down, or goods up, upon the table-land on which the mission was situated, was more than wecould tell. The agent had taken a long circuit, and yet had frequentlyto jump over breaks, and climb up steep places, in the ascent. Noanimal but a man or monkey could get up it. However, that was not ourlook-out; and knowing that the agent would be gone an hour or more, westrolled about, picking up shells, and following the sea where ittumbled in, roaring and spouting, among the crevices of the greatrocks. What a sight, thought I, must this be in a south-easter! Therocks were as large as those of Nahant or Newport, but, to my eye, moregrand and broken. Beside, there was a grandeur in everything around, which gave almost a solemnity to the scene: a silence and solitarinesswhich affected everything! Not a human being but ourselves for miles;and no sound heard but the pulsations of the great Pacific! and thegreat steep hill rising like a wall, and cutting us off from all theworld, but the "world of waters!" I separated myself from the rest andsat down on a rock, just where the sea ran in and formed a finespouting horn. Compared with the plain, dull sand-beach of the rest ofthe coast, this grandeur was as refreshing as a great rock in a wearyland. It was almost the first time that I had been positivelyalone--free from the sense that human beings were at my elbow, if nottalking with me--since I had left home. My better nature returnedstrong upon me. Everything was in accordance with my state of feeling, and I experienced a glow of pleasure at finding that what of poetry andromance I ever had in me, had not been entirely deadened by thelaborious and frittering life I had led. Nearly an hour did I sit, almost lost in the luxury of this entire new scene of the play in whichI had been so long acting, when I was aroused by the distant shouts ofmy companions, and saw that they were collecting together, as the agenthad made his appearance, on his way back to our boat. 

We pulled aboard, and found the long-boat hoisted out, and nearly ladenwith goods; and after dinner, we all went on shore in the quarter-boat, with the long-boat in tow. As we drew in, we found an ox-cart and acouple of men standing directly on the brow of the hill; and havinglanded, the captain took his way round the hill, ordering me and oneother to follow him. We followed, picking our way out, and jumping andscrambling up, walking over briers and prickly pears, until we came tothe top. Here the country stretched out for miles as far as the eyecould reach, on a level, table surface; and the only habitation insight was the small white mission of San Juan Capistrano, with a fewIndian huts about it, standing in a small hollow, about a mile fromwhere we were. Reaching the brow of the hill where the cart stood, wefound several piles of hides, and Indians sitting round them. One ortwo other carts were coming slowly on from the mission, and the captaintold us to begin and throw the hides down. This, then, was the waythey were to be got down: thrown down, one at a time, a distance offour hundred feet! This was doing the business on a great scale. Standing on the edge of the hill and looking down the perpendicularheight, the sailors, --"That walk upon the beach, Appeared like mice; and our tall anchoring bark Diminished to her cock; her cock a buoy Almost too small for sight. "

Down this height we pitched the hides, throwing them as far out intothe air as we could; and as they were all large, stiff, and doubled, like the cover of a book, the wind took them, and they swayed andeddied about, plunging and rising in the air, like a kite when it hasbroken its string. As it was now low tide, there was no danger oftheir falling into the water, and as fast as they came to ground, themen below picked them up, and taking them on their heads, walked offwith them to the boat. It was really a picturesque sight: the greatheight; the scaling of the hides; and the continual walking to and froof the men, who looked like mites, on the beach! This was the romanceof hide-droghing!

Some of the hides lodged in cavities which were under the bank and outof our sight, being directly under us; but by sending others down inthe same direction, we succeeded in dislodging them. Had they remainedthere, the captain said he should have sent on board for a couple ofpairs of long halyards, and got some one to have gone down for them. It was said that one of the crew of an English brig went down in thesame way, a few years before. We looked over, and thought it would notbe a welcome task, especially for a few paltry hides; but no one knowswhat he can do until he is called upon; for, six months afterwards, Iwent down the same place by a pair of top-gallant studding-sailhalyards, to save a half a dozen hides which had lodged there. 

Having thrown them all down, we took our way back again, and found theboat loaded and ready to start. We pulled off; took the hides allaboard; hoisted in the boats; hove up our anchor; made sail; and beforesundown, were on our way to San Diego. 

Friday, May 8th, 1835. Arrived at San Diego. Here we found the littleharbor deserted. The Lagoda, Ayacucho, Loriotte, and all, had left thecoast, and we were nearly alone. All the hide-houses on the beach, butours, were shut up, and the Sandwich Islanders, a dozen or twenty innumber, who had worked for the other vessels and been paid off whenthey sailed, were living on the beach, keeping up a grand carnival. ARussian discovery-ship which had been in this port a few years before, had built a large oven for baking bread, and went away, leaving itstanding. This, the Sandwich Islanders took possession of, and hadkept, ever since, undisturbed. It was big enough to hold six or eightmen--that is, it was as large as a ship's forecastle; had a door at theside, and a vent-hole at top. They covered it with Oahu mats, for acarpet; stopped up the vent-hole in bad weather, and made it theirhead-quarters. It was now inhabited by as many as a dozen or twentymen, who lived there in complete idleness--drinking, playing cards, andcarousing in every way. They bought a bullock once a week, which keptthem in meat, and one of them went up to the town every day to getfruit, liquor, and provisions. Besides this, they had bought a cask ofship-bread, and a barrel of flour from the Lagoda, before she sailed. There they lived, having a grand time, and caring for nobody. CaptainT---- was anxious to get three or four of them to come on board thePilgrim, as we were so much diminished in numbers; and went up to theoven and spent an hour or two trying to negotiate with them. One ofthem, --a finely built, active, strong and intelligent fellow, -- who wasa sort of king among them, acted as spokesman. He was calledMannini, --or rather, out of compliment to his known importance andinfluence, Mr. Mannini--and was known all over California. Through him, the captain offered them fifteen dollars a month, and one month's payin advance; but it was like throwing pearls before swine, or rather, carrying coals to Newcastle. So long as they had money, they would notwork for fifty dollars a month, and when their money was gone, theywould work for ten. 

"What do you do here, Mr. Mannini?"[1] said the captain. 

"Oh, we play cards, get drunk, smoke--do anything we're a mind to. "

"Don't you want to come aboard and work?"

"Aole! aole make make makou i ka hana. Now, got plenty money; no good, work. Mamule, money pau--all gone. Ah! very good, work!--maikai, hanahana nui!"

"But you'll spend all your money in this way, " said the captain. 

"Aye! me know that. By-'em-by money pau--all gone; then Kanaka workplenty. "

This was a hopeless case, and the captain left them, to wait patientlyuntil their money was gone. 

We discharged our hides and tallow, and in about a week were ready toset sail again for the windward. We unmoored, and got everythingready, when the captain made another attempt upon the oven. This timehe had more regard to the "mollia tempora fandi, " and succeeded verywell. He got Mr. Mannini in his interest, and as the shot was gettinglow in the locker, prevailed upon him and three others to come on boardwith their chests and baggage, and sent a hasty summons to me and theboy to come ashore with our things, and join the gang at thehide-house. This was unexpected to me; but anything in the way ofvariety I liked; so we got ready, and were pulled ashore. I stood onthe beach while the brig got under weigh, and watched her until sherounded the point, and then went up to the hide-house to take up myquarters for a few months. 

[1] The letter i in the Sandwich Island language is sounded like e inthe English. 

CHAPTER XIX

THE SANDWICH ISLANDERS--HIDE-CURING--WOOD-CUTTING--RATTLE-SNAKES--NEW-COMERS

Here was a change in my life as complete as it had been sudden. In thetwinkling of an eye, I was transformed from a sailor into a"beach-comber" and a hide-curer; yet the novelty and the comparativeindependence of the life were not unpleasant. Our hide-house was alarge building, made of rough boards, and intended to hold fortythousand hides. In one corner of it, a small room was parted off, inwhich four berths were made, where we were to live, with mother earthfor our floor. It contained a table, a small locker for pots, spoons, plates, etc. , and a small hole cut to let in the light. Here we put ourchests, threw our bedding into the berths, and took up our quarters. Over our head was another small room, in which Mr. Russell lived, whohad charge of the hide-house; the same man who was for a time anofficer of the Pilgrim. There he lived in solitary grandeur; eatingand sleeping alone, (and these were his principal occupations, ) andcommuning with his own dignity. The boy was to act as cook; whilemyself, a giant of a Frenchman named Nicholas, and four SandwichIslanders, were to cure the hides. Sam, the Frenchman, and myself, lived together in the room, and the four Sandwich Islanders worked andate with us, but generally slept at the oven. My new messmate, Nicholas, was the most immense man that I had ever seen in my life. Hecame on the coast in a vessel which was afterwards wrecked, and now lethimself out to the different houses to cure hides. He was considerablyover six feet, and of a frame so large that he might have been shownfor a curiosity. But the most remarkable thing about him was his feet. They were so large that he could not find a pair of shoes in Californiato fit him, and was obliged to send to Oahu for a pair; and when he gotthem, he was compelled to wear them down at the heel. He told me once, himself, that he was wrecked in an American brig on the Goodwin Sands, and was sent up to London, to the charge of the American consul, without clothing to his back or shoes to his feet, and was obliged togo about London streets in his stocking feet three or four days, in themonth of January, until the consul could have a pair of shoes made forhim. His strength was in proportion to his size, and his ignorance tohis strength--"strong as an ox, and ignorant as strong. " He neitherknew how to read nor write. He had been to sea from a boy, and hadseen all kinds of service, and been in every kind of vessel:merchantmen, men-of-war, privateers, and slavers; and from what I couldgather from his accounts of himself, and from what he once told me, inconfidence, after we had become better acquainted, he had even been inworse business than slave-trading. He was once tried for his life inCharleston, South Carolina, and though acquitted, yet he was sofrightened that he never would show himself in the United States again;and I could not persuade him that he could never be tried a second timefor the same offence. He said he had got safe off from the breakers, and was too good a sailor to risk his timbers again. 

Though I knew what his life had been, yet I never had the slightestfear of him. We always got along very well together, and, though somuch stronger and larger than I, he showed a respect for my education, and for what he had heard of my situation before coming to sea. "I'llbe good friends with you, " he used to say, "for by-and-by you'll comeout here captain, and then you'll haze me well!" By holding welltogether, we kept the officer in good order, for he was evidentlyafraid of Nicholas, and never ordered us, except when employed upon thehides. My other companions, the Sandwich Islanders, deserve particularnotice. 

A considerable trade has been carried on for several years betweenCalifornia and the Sandwich Islands, and most of the vessels are mannedwith Islanders; who, as they, for the most part, sign no articles, leave whenever they choose, and let themselves out to cure hides at SanDiego, and to supply the places of the men of the American vesselswhile on the coast. In this way, quite a colony of them had becomesettled at San Diego, as their headquarters. Some of these had recentlygone off in the Ayacucho and Loriotte, and the Pilgrim had taken Mr. Mannini and three others, so that there were not more than twenty left. Of these, four were on pay at the Ayacucho's house, four more workingwith us, and the rest were living at the oven in a quiet way; for theirmoney was nearly gone, and they must make it last until some othervessel came down to employ them. 

During the four months that I lived here, I got well acquainted withall of them, and took the greatest pains to become familiar with theirlanguage, habits, and characters. Their language, I could only learn, orally, for they had not any books among them, though many of them hadbeen taught to read and write by the missionaries at home. They spokea little English, and by a sort of compromise, a mixed language wasused on the beach, which could be understood by all. The long name ofSandwich Islanders is dropped, and they are called by the whites, allover the Pacific ocean, "Kanákas, " from a word in their own languagewhich they apply to themselves, and to all South Sea Islanders, indistinction from whites, whom they call "Haole. " This name, "Kanaka, "they answer to, both collectively and individually. Their propernames, in their own language, being difficult to pronounce andremember, they are called by any names which the captains or crews maychoose to give them. Some are called after the vessel they are in;others by common names, as Jack, Tom, Bill; and some have fancy names, as Ban-yan, Fore-top, Rope-yarn, Pelican, etc. , etc. Of the four whoworked at our house one was named "Mr. Bingham, " after the missionaryat Oahu; another, Hope, after a vessel that he had been in; a third, Tom Davis, the name of his first captain; and the fourth, Pelican, fromhis fancied resemblance to that bird. Then there was Lagoda-Jack, California-Bill, etc. , etc. But by whatever names they might becalled, they were the most interesting, intelligent, and kind-heartedpeople that I ever fell in with. I felt a positive attachment foralmost all of them; and many of them I have, to this time, a feelingfor, which would lead me to go a great way for the mere pleasure ofseeing them, and which will always make me feel a strong interest inthe mere name of a Sandwich Islander. 

Tom Davis knew how to read, write, and cipher in common arithmetic; hadbeen to the United States, and spoke English quite well. His educationwas as good as that of three-quarters of the Yankees in California, andhis manners and principles a good deal better, and he was so quick ofapprehension that he might have been taught navigation, and theelements of many of the sciences, with the most perfect ease. Old "Mr. Bingham" spoke very little English--almost none, and neither knew howto read nor write; but he was the best-hearted old fellow in the world. He must have been over fifty years of age, and had two of his frontteeth knocked out, which was done by his parents as a sign of grief atthe death of Kamehameha, the great king of the Sandwich Islands. Weused to tell him that he ate Captain Cook, and lost his teeth in thatway. That was the only thing that ever made him angry. He wouldalways be quite excited at that; and say--"Aole!" (no. ) "Me no eatCaptain Cook! Me pikinini--small--so high--no more! My father seeCaptain Cook! Me--no!" None of them liked to have anything said aboutCaptain Cook, for the sailors all believe that he was eaten, and that, they cannot endure to be taunted with. --"New Zealand Kanaka eat whiteman;--Sandwich Island Kanaka--no. Sandwich Island Kanaka ua like pu nahaole--all 'e same a' you!"

Mr. Bingham was a sort of patriarch among them, and was always treatedwith great respect, though he had not the education and energy whichgave Mr. Mannini his power over them. I have spent hours in talkingwith this old fellow about Kamehameha, the Charlemagne of the SandwichIslands; his son and successor Riho Riho, who died in England, and wasbrought to Oahu in the frigate Blonde, Captain Lord Byron, and whosefuneral he remembered perfectly; and also about the customs of hiscountry in his boyhood, and the changes which had been made by themissionaries. He never would allow that human beings had been eatenthere; and, indeed, it always seemed like an insult to tell soaffectionate, intelligent, and civilized a class of men, that suchbarbarities had been practised in their own country within therecollection of many of them. Certainly, the history of no people onthe globe can show anything like so rapid an advance. I would havetrusted my life and my fortune in the hands of any one of these people;and certainly had I wished for a favor or act of sacrifice, I wouldhave gone to them all, in turn, before I should have applied to one ofmy own countrymen on the coast, and should have expected to have seenit done, before my own countrymen had got half through counting thecost. Their costumes, and manner of treating one another, show asimple, primitive generosity, which is truly delightful; and which isoften a reproach to our own people. Whatever one has, they all have. Money, food, clothes, they share with one another; even to the lastpiece of tobacco to put in their pipes. I once heard old Mr. Binghamsay, with the highest indignation, to a Yankee trader who was trying topersuade him to keep his money to himself--"No! We no all 'e same a'you!--Suppose one got money, all got money. You;--suppose one gotmoney--lock him up in chest. --No good!"--"Kanaka all 'e same a' one!"This principle they carry so far, that none of them will eat anythingin the sight of others without offering it all round. I have seen oneof them break a biscuit, which had been given him, into five parts, ata time when I knew he was on a very short allowance, as there was butlittle to eat on the beach. 

My favorite among all of them, and one who was liked by both officersand men, and by whomever he had anything to do with, was Hope. He wasan intelligent, kind-hearted little fellow, and I never saw him angry, though I knew him for more than a year, and have seen him imposed uponby white people, and abused by insolent officers of vessels. He wasalways civil, and always ready, and never forgot a benefit. I oncetook care of him when he was ill, getting medicines from the ship'schests, when no captain or officer would do anything for him, and henever forgot it. Every Kanaka has one particular friend, whom heconsiders himself bound to do everything for, and with whom he has asort of contract, --an alliance offensive and defensive, --and for whomhe will often make the greatest sacrifices. This friend they callaikane; and for such did Hope adopt me. I do not believe I could havewanted anything which he had, that he would not have given me. Inreturn for this, I was always his friend among the Americans, and usedto teach him letters and numbers; for he left home before he hadlearned how to read. He was very curious about Boston (as they callthe United States); asking many questions about the houses, the people, etc. , and always wished to have the pictures in books explained to him. They were all astonishingly quick in catching at explanations, and manythings which I had thought it utterly impossible to make themunderstand, they often seized in an instant, and asked questions whichshowed that they knew enough to make them wish to go farther. Thepictures of steamboats and railroad cars, in the columns of somenewspapers which I had, gave me great difficulty to explain. Thegrading of the road, the rails, the construction of the carriages, theycould easily understand, but the motion produced by steam was a littletoo refined for them. I attempted to show it to them once by anexperiment upon the cook's coppers, but failed; probably as much frommy own ignorance as from their want of apprehension; and, I have nodoubt, left them with about as clear an idea of the principle as I hadmyself. This difficulty, of course, existed in the same force with thesteamboats and all I could do was to give them some account of theresults, in the shape of speed; for, failing in the reason, I had tofall back upon the fact. In my account of the speed I was supported byTom, who had been to Nantucket, and seen a little steamboat which ranover to New Bedford. 

A map of the world, which I once showed them, kept their attention forhours; those who knew how to read pointing out the places and referringto me for the distances. I remember being much amused with a questionwhich Hope asked me. Pointing to the large irregular place which isalways left blank round the poles, to denote that it is undiscovered, he looked up and asked. --"Pau?" (Done? ended?)

The system of naming the streets and numbering the houses, they easilyunderstood, and the utility of it. They had a great desire to seeAmerica, but were afraid of doubling Cape Horn, for they suffer much incold weather, and had heard dreadful accounts of the Cape, from thoseof their number who had been round it. 

They smoke a great deal, though not much at a time; using pipes withlarge bowls, and very short stems, or no stems at all. These, theylight, and putting them to their mouths, take a long draught, gettingtheir mouths as full as they can hold, and their cheeks distended, andthen let it slowly out through their mouths and nostrils. The pipe isthen passed to others, who draw, in the same manner, one pipe-fullserving for half a dozen. They never take short, continuous draughts, like Europeans, but one of these "Oahu puffs, " as the sailors callthem, serves for an hour or two, until some one else lights his pipe, and it is passed round in the same manner. Each Kanaka on the beach hada pipe, flint, steel, tinder, a hand of tobacco, and a jack-knife, which he always carried about with him. 

That which strikes a stranger most peculiarly is their style ofsinging. They run on, in a low, guttural, monotonous sort of chant, their lips and tongues seeming hardly to move, and the sounds modulatedsolely in the throat. There is very little tune to it, and the words, so far as I could learn, are extempore. They sing about persons andthings which are around them, and adopt this method when they do notwish to be understood by any but themselves; and it is very effectual, for with the most careful attention I never could detect a word that Iknew. I have often heard Mr. Mannini, who was the most notedimprovisatore among them, sing for an hour together, when at work inthe midst of Americans and Englishmen; and, by the occasional shoutsand laughter of the Kanakas, who were at a distance, it was evidentthat he was singing about the different men that he was at work with. They have great powers of ridicule, and are excellent mimics; many ofthem discovering and imitating the peculiarities of our own people, before we had seen them ourselves. 

These were the people with whom I was to spend a few months; and who, with the exception of the officer, Nicholas the Frenchman, and the boy, made the whole population of the beach. I ought, perhaps, to exceptthe dogs, for they were an important part of our settlement. Some ofthe first vessels brought dogs out with them, who, for convenience, were left ashore, and there multiplied, until they came to be a greatpeople. While I was on the beach, the average number was about forty, and probably an equal, or greater number are drowned, or killed in someother way, every year. They are very useful in guarding the beach, theIndians being afraid to come down at night; for it was impossible forany one to get within half a mile of the hide-houses without a generalalarm. The father of the colony, old Sachem, so called from the shipin which he was brought out, died while I was there, full of years, andwas honorably buried. Hogs, and a few chickens, were the rest of theanimal tribe, and formed, like the dogs, a common company, though theywere all known and marked, and usually fed at the houses to which theybelonged. 

I had been but a few hours on the beach, and the Pilgrim was hardly outof sight, when the cry of "Sail ho!" was raised, and a smallhermaphrodite brig rounded the point, bore up into the harbor, and cameto anchor. It was the Mexican brig Fazio, which we had left at SanPedro, and which had come down to land her tallow, try it all over, andmake new bags, and then take it in, and leave the coast. They mooredship, erected their try-works on shore, put up a small tent, in whichthey all lived, and commenced operations. They made an addition to oursociety, and we spent many evenings in their tent, where, amid theBabel of English, Spanish, French, Indian, and Kanaka, we found somewords that we could understand in common. 

The morning after my landing, I began the duties of hide-curing. Inorder to understand these, it will be necessary to give the wholehistory of a hide, from the time it is taken from a bullock until it isput on board the vessel to be carried to Boston. When the hide istaken from the bullock, holes are cut round it, near the edge, by whichit is staked out to dry. In this manner it dries without shrinking. After they are thus dried in the sun, they are received by the vessels, and brought down to the depot at San Diego. The vessels land them, andleave them in large piles near the houses. 

Then begins the hide-curer's duty. The first thing is to put them insoak. This is done by carrying them down at low tide, and making themfast, in small piles, by ropes, and letting the tide come up and coverthem. Every day we put in soak twenty-five for each man, which, withus, made an hundred and fifty. There they lie forty-eight hours, whenthey are taken out, and rolled up, in wheelbarrows, and thrown into thevats. These vats contain brine, made very strong; being sea-water, with great quantities of salt thrown in. This pickles the hides, andin this they lie forty-eight hours; the use of the sea-water, intowhich they are first put, being merely to soften and clean them. Fromthese vats, they are taken, and lie on a platform twenty-four hours, and then are spread upon the ground, and carefully stretched and stakedout, so that they may dry smooth. After they were staked, and while yetwet and soft, we used to go upon them with our knives, and carefullycut off all the bad parts:--the pieces of meat and fat, which wouldcorrupt and infect the whole if stowed away in a vessel for manymonths, the large flippers, the ears, and all other parts which wouldprevent close stowage. This was the most difficult part of our duty: asit required much skill to take everything necessary off and not to cutor injure the hide. It was also a long process, as six of us had toclean an hundred and fifty, most of which required a great deal to bedone to them, as the Spaniards are very careless in skinning theircattle. Then, too, as we cleaned them while they were staked out, wewere obliged to kneel down upon them, which always gives beginners theback-ache. The first day, I was so slow and awkward that I cleaned onlyeight; at the end of a few days I doubled my number; and in a fortnightor three weeks, could keep up with the others, and clean myproportion--twenty-five. 

This cleaning must be got through with before noon; for by that timethey get too dry. After the sun has been upon them a few hours, theyare carefully gone over with scrapers, to get off all the grease whichthe sun brings out. This being done, the stakes are pulled up, and thehides carefully doubled, with the hair side out, and left to dry. About the middle of the afternoon they are turned upon the other side, and at sundown piled up and covered over. The next day they are spreadout and opened again, and at night, if fully dry, are thrown upon along, horizontal pole, five at a time, and beat with flails. Thistakes all the dust from them. Then, being salted, scraped, cleaned, dried, and beaten, they are stowed away in the house. Here ends theirhistory, except that they are taken out again when the vessel is readyto go home, beaten, stowed away on board, carried to Boston, tanned, made into shoes and other articles for which leather is used; and manyof them, very probably, in the end, brought back again to California inthe shape of shoes, and worn out in pursuit of other bullocks, or inthe curing of other hides. 

By putting an hundred and fifty in soak every day, we had the samenumber at each stage of curing, on each day; so that we had, every day, the same work to do upon the same number: an hundred and fifty to putin soak; an hundred and fifty to wash out and put in the vat; the samenumber to haul from the vat and put on the platform to drain; the samenumber to spread and stake out and clean; and the same number to beatand stow away in the home. I ought to except Sunday; for, by aprescription which no captain or agent has yet ventured to break inupon, Sunday has been a day of leisure on the beach for years. OnSaturday night, the hides, in every stage of progress, are carefullycovered up, and not uncovered until Monday morning. On Sundays we hadabsolutely no work to do, unless it was to kill a bullock, which wassent down for our use about once a week, and sometimes came on Sunday. Another good arrangement was, that we had just so much work to do, andwhen that was through, the time was our own. Knowing this, we workedhard, and needed no driving. We "turned out" every morning at thefirst signs of daylight, and allowing a short time, about eighto'clock, for breakfast, generally got through our labor between one andtwo o'clock, when we dined, and had the rest of the time to ourselves;until just before sundown, when we beat the dry hides and put them inthe house, and covered over all the others. By this means we had aboutthree hours to ourselves every afternoon; and at sundown we had oursupper, and our work was done for the day. There was no watch to stand, and no topsails to reef. The evenings we generally spent at oneanother's houses, and I often went up and spent an hour or so at theoven; which was called the "Kanaka Hotel, " and the "Oahu Coffee-house. "Immediately after dinner we usually took a short siésta to make up forour early rising, and spent the rest of the afternoon according to ourown fancies. I generally read, wrote, and made or mended clothes; fornecessity, the mother of invention, had taught me these two latterarts. The Kanakas went up to the oven, and spent the time in sleeping, talking, and smoking; and my messmate, Nicholas, who neither knew howto read or write, passed away the time by a long siésta, two or threesmokes with his pipe, and a paséo to the other houses. This leisuretime is never interfered with, for the captains know that the men earnit by working hard and fast, and that if they interfered with it, themen could easily make their twenty-five hides apiece last through theday. We were pretty independent, too, for the master of thehouse--"capitan de la casa"--had nothing to say to us, except when wewere at work on the hides, and although we could not go up to the townwithout his permission, this was seldom or never refused. 

The great weight of the wet hides, which we were obliged to roll aboutin wheelbarrows; the continual stooping upon those which were peggedout to be cleaned; and the smell of the vats, into which we were oftenobliged to get, knee-deep, to press down the hides; all made the workdisagreeable and fatiguing;--but we soon got hardened to it, and thecomparative independence of our life reconciled us to it; for there wasnobody to haze us and find fault; and when we got through, we had onlyto wash and change our clothes, and our time was our own. There was, however, one exception to the time's being our own; which was, that ontwo afternoons of every week we were obliged to go off and get wood, for the cook to use in the galley. Wood is very scarce in the vicinityof San Diego; there being no trees of any size, for miles. In thetown, the inhabitants burn the small wood which grows in thickets, andfor which they send out Indians, in large numbers, every few days. Fortunately, the climate is so fine that they had no need of a fire intheir houses, and only use it for cooking. With us the getting of woodwas a great trouble; for all that in the vicinity of the houses hadbeen cut down, and we were obliged to go off a mile or two, and tocarry it some distance on our backs, as we could not get the hand-cartup the hills and over the uneven places. Two afternoons in the week, generally Monday and Thursday, as soon as we had got through dinner, westarted off for the bush, each of us furnished with a hatchet and along piece of rope, and dragging the hand-cart behind us, and followedby the whole colony of dogs, who were always ready for the bush, andwere half mad whenever they saw our preparations. We went with thehand-cart as far as we could conveniently drag it, and leaving it in anopen, conspicuous place, separated ourselves; each taking his owncourse, and looking about for some good place to begin upon. Frequently, we had to go nearly a mile from the hand-cart before wecould find any fit place. Having lighted upon a good thicket, the nextthing was to clear away the under-brush, and have fair play at thetrees. These trees are seldom more than five or six feet high, and thehighest that I ever saw in these expeditions could not have been morethan twelve; so that, with lopping off the branches and clearing awaythe underwood, we had a good deal of cutting to do for a very littlewood. Having cut enough for a "back-load, " the next thing was to makeit well fast with the rope, and heaving the bundle upon our backs, andtaking the hatchet in hand, to walk off, up hill and down dale, to thehand-cart. Two good back-loads apiece filled the hand-cart; and thatwas each one's proportion. When each had brought down his second load, we filled the hand-cart, and took our way again slowly back, andunloading, covering the hides for the night, and getting our supper, finished the day's work. 

These wooding excursions had always a mixture of something ratherpleasant in them. Roaming about in the woods with hatchet in hand, like a backwoodsman, followed by a troop of dogs; starting up of birds, snakes, hares and foxes, and examining the various kinds of trees, flowers, and birds' nests, was at least, a change from the monotonousdrag and pull on shipboard. Frequently, too, we had some amusement andadventure. The coati, of which I have before spoken, --a sort ofmixture of the fox and wolf breeds, --fierce little animals, with bushytails and large heads, and a quick, sharp bark, abound here, as in allother parts of California. These, the dogs were very watchful for, andwhenever they saw them, started off in full run after them. We hadmany fine chases; yet, although our dogs ran finely, the rascalsgenerally escaped. They are a match for the dog, ---one to one, --but asthe dogs generally went in squads, there was seldom a fair fight. Asmaller dog, belonging to us, once attacked a coati, single, and got agood deal worsted, and might perhaps have been killed had we not cometo his assistance. We had, however, one dog which gave them a gooddeal of trouble, and many hard runs. He was a fine, tall fellow, andunited strength and agility better than any dog that I have ever seen. He was born at the Islands, his father being an English mastiff, andhis mother a greyhound. He had the high head, long legs, narrow body, and springing gait of the latter, and the heavy jaw, thick jowls, andstrong fore-quarters of the mastiff. When he was brought to San Diego, an English sailor said that he looked, about the face, precisely likethe Duke of Wellington, whom he had once seen at the Tower; and, indeed, there was something about him which resembled the portraits ofthe Duke. From this time he was christened "Welly, " and became thefavorite and bully of the beach. He always led the dogs by severalyards in the chase, and had killed two coati at different times insingle combats. We often had fine sport with these fellows. A quick, sharp bark from a coati, and in an instant every dog was at the heightof his speed. A few moments made up for an unfair start, and gave eachdog his relative place. Welly, at the head, seemed almost to skim overthe bushes; and after him came Fanny, Feliciana, Childers, and theother fleet ones, --the spaniels and terriers; and then behind, followedthe heavy corps--bulldogs, etc. , for we had every breed. Pursuit by uswas in vain, and in about half an hour a few of them would come pantingand straggling back. 

Beside the coati, the dogs sometimes made prizes of rabbits and hares, which are very plentiful here, and great numbers of which we often shotfor our dinners. There was another animal that I was not so muchdisposed to find amusement from, and that was the rattlesnake. Theseare very abundant here, especially during the spring of the year. Thelatter part of the time that I was on shore, I did not meet with somany, but for the first two months we seldom went into "the bush"without one of our number starting some of them. The first that I eversaw, I remember perfectly well. I had left my companions, and wasbeginning to clear away a fine clump of trees, when just in the midstof the thicket, not more than eight yards from me, one of these fellowsset up his hiss. It is a sharp, continuous sound, and resembles verymuch the letting off of the steam from the small pipe of a steamboat, except that it is on a smaller scale. I knew, by the sound of an axe, that one of my companions was near, and called out to him, to let himknow what I had fallen upon. He took it very lightly, and as he seemedinclined to laugh at me for being afraid, I determined to keep myplace. I knew that so long as I could hear the rattle, I was safe, forthese snakes never make a noise when they are in motion. Accordingly, I kept at my work, and the noise which I made with cutting and breakingthe trees kept him in alarm; so that I had the rattle to show me hiswhereabouts. Once or twice the noise stopped for a short time, whichgave me a little uneasiness, and retreating a few steps, I threwsomething into the bush, at which he would set his rattle agoing; andfinding that he had not moved from his first place, I was easy again. In this way I continued at my work until I had cut a full load, neversuffering him to be quiet for a moment. Having cut my load, I strappedit together, and got everything ready for starting. I felt that I couldnow call the others without the imputation of being afraid; and went insearch of them. In a few minutes we were all collected, and began anattack upon the bush. The big Frenchman, who was the one that I hadcalled to at first, I found as little inclined to approach the snake asI had been. The dogs, too, seemed afraid of the rattle, and kept up abarking at a safe distance; but the Kanakas showed no fear, and gettinglong sticks, went into the bush, and keeping a bright look-out, stoodwithin a few feet of him. One or two blows struck near him, and a fewstones thrown, started him, and we lost his track, and had the pleasantconsciousness that he might be directly under our feet. By throwingstones and chips in different directions, we made him spring his rattleagain, and began another attack. This time we drove him into the clearground, and saw him gliding off, with head and tail erect, when astone, well aimed, knocked him over the bank, down a declivity offifteen or twenty feet, and stretched him at his length. Having madesure of him, by a few more stones, we went down, and one of the Kanakascut off his rattle. These rattles vary in number it is said, accordingto the age of the snake; though the Indians think they indicate thenumber of creatures they have killed. We always preserved them astrophies, and at the end of the summer had quite a number. None of ourpeople were ever bitten by them, but one of our dogs died of a bite, and another was supposed to have been bitten, but recovered. We had noremedy for the bite, though it was said that the Indians of the countryhad, and the Kanakas professed to have an herb which would cure it, butit was fortunately never brought to the test. 

Hares and rabbits, as I said before, were abundant, and, during thewinter months, the waters are covered with wild ducks and geese. Crows, too, were very numerous, and frequently alighted in great numbers uponour hides, picking at the pieces of dried meat and fat. Bears andwolves are numerous in the upper parts, and in the interior, (and, indeed, a man was killed by a bear within a few miles of San Pedro, while we were there, ) but there were none in our immediateneighborhood. The only other animals were horses. Over a dozen ofthese were owned by different people on the beach, and were allowed torun loose among the hills, with a long lasso attached to them, and pickup feed wherever they could find it. We were sure of seeing them once aday, for there was no water among the hills, and they were obliged tocome down to the well which had been dug upon the beach. These horseswere bought at, from two, to six and eight dollars apiece, and wereheld very much as common property. We generally kept one fast to oneof the houses every day, so that we could mount him and catch any ofthe others. Some of them were really fine animals, and gave us manygood runs up to the Presidio and over the country. 

CHAPTER XX

LEISURE--NEWS FROM HOME--"BURNING THE WATER"

After we had been a few weeks on shore, and had begun to feel brokeninto the regularity of our life, its monotony was interrupted by thearrival of two vessels from the windward. We were sitting at dinner inour little room, when we heard the cry of "Sail ho!" This, we hadlearned, did not always signify a vessel, but was raised whenever awoman was seen coming down from the town; or a squaw, or an ox-cart, oranything unusual, hove in sight upon the road; so we took no notice ofit. But it soon became so loud and general from all parts of thebeach, that we were led to go to the door; and there, sure enough, weretwo sails coming round the point, and leaning over from the strongnorth-west wind, which blows down the coast every afternoon. Theheadmost was a ship, and the other, a brig. Everybody was alive on thebeach, and all manner of conjectures were abroad. Some said it was thePilgrim, with the Boston ship, which we were expecting; but we soon sawthat the brig was not the Pilgrim, and the ship with her stumptop-gallant masts and rusty sides, could not be a dandy BostonIndiaman. As they drew nearer, we soon discovered the high poop andtop-gallant forecastle, and other marks of the Italian ship Rosa, andthe brig proved to be the Catalina, which we saw at Santa Barbara, justarrived from Valparaiso. They came to anchor, moored ship, andcommenced discharging hides and tallow. The Rosa had purchased thehouse occupied by the Lagoda, and the Catalina took the other spare onebetween ours and the Ayacucho's, so that, now, each one was occupied, and the beach, for several days, was all alive. The Catalina hadseveral Kanakas on board, who were immediately besieged by the others, and carried up to the oven, where they had a long pow-wow, and a smoke. Two Frenchmen, who belonged to the Rosa's crew, came in, every evening, to see Nicholas; and from them we learned that the Pilgrim was at SanPedro, and was the only other vessel now on the coast. Several of theItalians slept on shore at their hide-house; and there, and at the tentin which the Fazio's crew lived, we had some very good singing almostevery evening. The Italians sang a variety of songs--barcarollas, provincial airs, etc. ; in several of which I recognized parts of ourfavorite operas and sentimental songs. They often joined in a song, taking all the different parts; which produced a fine effect, as manyof them had good voices, and all seemed to sing with spirit andfeeling. One young man, in particular, had a falsetto as clear as aclarionet. 

The greater part of the crews of the vessels came ashore every evening, and we passed the time in going about from one house to another, andlistening to all manner of languages. The Spanish was the commonground upon which we all met; for every one knew more or less of that. We had now, out of forty or fifty, representatives from almost everynation under the sun: two Englishmen, three Yankees, two Scotchmen, twoWelshmen, one Irishman, three Frenchmen (two of whom were Normans, andthe third from Gascony, ) one Dutchman, one Austrian, two or threeSpaniards, (from old Spain, ) half a dozen Spanish-Americans andhalf-breeds, two native Indians from Chili and the Island of Chiloe, one Negro, one Mulatto, about twenty Italians, from all parts of Italy, as many more Sandwich Islanders, one Otaheitan, and one Kanaka from theMarquesas Islands. 

The night before the vessels were ready to sail, all the Europeansunited and had an entertainment at the Rosa's hide-house, and we hadsongs of every nation and tongue. A German gave us "Och! mein lieberAugustin!" the three Frenchmen roared through the Marseilles Hymn; theEnglish and Scotchmen gave us "Rule Britannia, " and "Wha'll be King butCharlie?" the Italians and Spaniards screamed through some nationalaffairs, for which I was none the wiser; and we three Yankees made anattempt at the "Star-spangled Banner. " After these national tributeshad been paid, the Austrian gave us a very pretty little love-song, andthe Frenchmen sang a spirited thing called "Sentinelle! O prenez gardea vous!" and then followed the melange which might have been expected. When I left them, the aguardiente and annisou was pretty well in theirheads, and they were all singing and talking at once, and theirpeculiar national oaths were getting as plenty as pronouns. 

The next day, the two vessels got under weigh for the windward, andleft us in quiet possession of the beach. Our numbers were somewhatenlarged by the opening of the new houses, and the society of the beacha little changed. In charge of the Catalina's house, was an oldScotchman, who, like most of his countrymen, had a pretty goodeducation, and, like many of them, was rather pragmatical, and had aludicrously solemn conceit. He employed his time in taking care of hispigs, chickens, turkeys, dogs, etc. , and in smoking his long pipe. Everything was as neat as a pin in the house, and he was as regular inhis hours as a chronometer, but as he kept very much by himself, wasnot a great addition to our society. He hardly spent a cent all thetime he was on the beach, and the others said he was no shipmate. Hehad been a petty officer on board the British frigate Dublin, Capt. Lord James Townshend, and had great ideas of his own importance. Theman in charge of the Rosa's house was an Austrian by birth, but spoke, read, and wrote four languages with ease and correctness. German washis native tongue, but being born near the borders of Italy, and havingsailed out of Genoa, the Italian was almost as familiar to him as hisown language. He was six years on board of an English man-of-war, where he learned to speak our language with ease, and also to read andwrite it. He had been several years in Spanish vessels, and hadacquired that language so well, that he could read any books in it. Hewas between forty and fifty years of age, and was a singular mixture ofthe man-of-war's-man and Puritan. He talked a great deal aboutpropriety and steadiness, and gave good advice to the youngsters andKanakas, but seldom went up to the town, without coming down "threesheets in the wind. " One holyday, he and old Robert (the Scotchmanfrom the Catalina) went up to the town, and got so cozy, talking overold stories and giving one another good advice, that they came downdouble-backed, on a horse, and both rolled off into the sand as soon asthe horse stopped. This put an end to their pretensions, and they neverheard the last of it from the rest of the men. On the night of theentertainment at the Rosa's house, I saw old Schmidt, (that was theAustrian's name) standing up by a hogshead, holding on by both hands, and calling out to himself--"Hold on, Schmidt! hold on, my good fellow, or you'll be on your back!" Still, he was an intelligent, good-naturedold fellow, and had a chest-full of books, which he willingly lent meto read. In the same house with him was a Frenchman and an Englishman;the latter a regular-built "man-of-war Jack;" a thorough seaman; ahearty, generous fellow; and, at the same time, a drunken, dissolutedog. He made it a point to get drunk once a fortnight, (when he alwaysmanaged to sleep on the road, and have his money stolen from him, ) andto battle the Frenchman once a week. These, with a Chilian, and a halfa dozen Kanakas, formed the addition to our company. 

In about six weeks from the time when the Pilgrim sailed, we had gotall the hides which she left us cured and stowed away; and havingcleared up the ground, and emptied the vats, and set everything inorder, had nothing more to do until she should come down again, but tosupply ourselves with wood. Instead of going twice a week for thispurpose, we determined to give one whole week to getting wood, and thenwe should have enough to last us half through the summer. Accordingly, we started off every morning, after an early breakfast, with ourhatchets in hand, and cut wood until the sun was over the point, --whichwas our only mark of time, as there was not a watch on the beach--andthen came back to dinner, and after dinner, started off again with ourhand-cart and ropes, and carted and "backed" it down, until sunset. This, we kept up for a week, until we had collected severalcords, --enough to last us for six or eight weeks--when we "knocked off"altogether, much to my joy; for, though I liked straying in the woods, and cutting, very well, yet the backing the wood for so great adistance, over an uneven country, was, without exception, the hardestwork I had ever done. I usually had to kneel down and contrive to heavethe load, which was well strapped together, upon my back, and then riseup and start off with it up the hills and down the vales, sometimesthrough thickets, --the rough points sticking into the skin, and tearingthe clothes, so that, at the end of the week, I had hardly a wholeshirt to my back. 

We were now through all our work, and had nothing more to do until thePilgrim should come down again. We had nearly got through ourprovisions too, as well as our work; for our officer had been verywasteful of them, and the tea, flour, sugar, and molasses, were allgone. We suspected him of sending them up to the town; and he alwaystreated the squaws with molasses, when they came down to the beach. Finding wheat-coffee and dry bread rather poor living, we dubbedtogether, and I went up to the town on horseback with a great salt-bagbehind the saddle, and a few reáls in my pocket, and brought back thebag full of onions, pears, beans, water-melons, and other fruits; forthe young woman who tended the garden, finding that I belonged to theAmerican ship, and that we were short of provisions, put in a doubleportion. With these we lived like fighting-cocks for a week or two, and had, besides, what the sailors call "a blow-out on sleep;" notturning out in the morning until breakfast was ready. I employedseveral days in overhauling my chest, and mending up all my oldclothes, until I had got everything in order--patch upon patch, like asand-barge's mainsail. Then I took hold of Bowditch's Navigator, whichI had always with me. I had been through the greater part of it, andnow went carefully through it, from beginning to end working out mostof the examples. That done, and there being no signs of the Pilgrim, Imade a descent upon old Schmidt, and borrowed and read all the booksthere were upon the beach. Such a dearth was there of these latterarticles, that anything, even a little child's story-book, or the halfof a shipping calendar, appeared like a treasure. I actually read ajest-book through, from beginning to end, in one day, as I should anovel, and enjoyed it very much. At last, when I thought that therewere no more to be got, I found, at the bottom of old Schmidt's chest, "Mandeville, a Romance, by Godwin, in five volumes. " This I had neverread, but Godwin's name was enough, and after the wretched trash I haddevoured, anything bearing the name of a distinguished intellectualman, was a prize indeed. I bore it off, and for two days I was upearly and late, reading with all my might, and actually drinking indelight. It is no extravagance to say that it was like a spring in adesert land. 

From the sublime to the ridiculous--so with me, from Mandeville tohide-curing, was but a step; for

Wednesday, July 18th, brought us the brig Pilgrim from the windward. Asshe came in, we found that she was a good deal altered in herappearance. Her short top-gallant masts were up; her bowlines allunrove (except to the courses); the quarter boom-irons off her loweryards; her jack-cross-trees sent down; several blocks got rid of;running-rigging rove in new places; and numberless other changes of thesame character. Then, too, there was a new voice giving orders, and anew face on the quarter-deck, --a short, dark-complexioned man, in agreen jacket and a high leather cap. These changes, of course, set thewhole beach on the qui-vive, and we were all waiting for the boat tocome ashore, that we might have things explained. At length, after thesails were furled and the anchor carried out, the boat pulled ashore, and the news soon flew that the expected ship had arrived at SantaBarbara, and that Captain T---- had taken command of her, and hercaptain, Faucon, had taken the Pilgrim, and was the green-jacketed manon the quarter-deck. The boat put directly off again, without givingus time to ask any more questions, and we were obliged to wait tillnight, when we took a little skiff, that lay on the beach, and paddledoff. When I stepped aboard, the second mate called me aft, and gave mea large bundle, directed to me, and marked "Ship Alert. " This was whatI had longed for, yet I refrained from opening it until I went ashore. Diving down into the forecastle, I found the same old crew, and wasreally glad to see them again. Numerous inquiries passed as to the newship, the latest news from Boston, etc. , etc. S---- had receivedletters from home, and nothing remarkable had happened. The Alert wasagreed on all hands to be a fine ship, and a large one: "Larger thanthe Rosa"--"Big enough to carry off all the hides in California"--"Railas high as a man's head"--"A crack ship"--"A regular dandy, " etc. , etc. Captain T---- took command of her, and she went directly up toMonterey; from thence she was to go to San Francisco, and probablywould not be in San Diego under two or three months. Some of thePilgrim's crew found old ship-mates aboard of her, and spent an hour ortwo in her forecastle, the evening before she sailed. They said herdecks were as white as snow--holystoned every morning, like aman-of-war's; everything on board "shipshape and Bristol fashion;" afine crew, three mates, a sailmaker and carpenter, and all complete. "They've got a man for mate of that ship, and not a bloody sheep aboutdecks!"--"A mate that knows his duty, and makes everybody do theirs, and won't be imposed upon either by captain or crew. " After collectingall the information we could get on this point, we asked somethingabout their new captain. He had hardly been on board long enough forthem to know much about him, but he had taken hold strong, as soon ashe took command;--sending down the top-gallant masts, and unreevinghalf the rigging, the very first day. 

Having got all the news we could, we pulled ashore; and as soon as wereached the house, I, as might be supposed, proceeded directly toopening my bundle, and found a reasonable supply of duck, flannelshirts, shoes, etc. , and, what was still more valuable, a packet ofeleven letters. These I sat up nearly all the night to read, and putthem carefully away, to be read and re-read again and again at myleisure. Then came a half a dozen newspapers, the last of which gavenotice of Thanksgiving, and of the clearance of "ship Alert, Edward H. Faucon, master, for Callao and California, by Bryant, Sturgis & Co. "No one has ever been on distant voyages, and after a long absencereceived a newspaper from home, who cannot understand the delight thatthey give one. I read every part of them--the houses to let; thingslost or stolen; auction sales, and all. Nothing carries you so entirelyto a place, and makes you feel so perfectly at home, as a newspaper. The very name of "Boston Daily Advertiser" "sounded hospitably upon theear. "

The Pilgrim discharged her hides, which set us at work again, and in afew days we were in the old routine of dry hides--wethides--cleaning--beating, etc. Captain Faucon came quietly up to me, as I was at work, with my knife, cutting the meat from a dirty hide, asked me how I liked California, and repeated--"Tityre, tu patulaerecubans sub tegmine fagi. " Very apropos, thought I, and, at the sametime, serves to show that you understand Latin. However, a kind wordfrom a captain is a thing not to be slighted; so I answered himcivilly, and made the most of it. 

Saturday, July 11th. The Pilgrim set sail for the windward, and leftus to go on in our old way. Having laid in such a supply of wood, andthe days being now long, and invariably pleasant, we had a good deal oftime to ourselves. All the duck I received from home, I soon made upinto trowsers and frocks, and displayed, every Sunday, a complete suitof my own make, from head to foot, having formed the remnants of theduck into a cap. Reading, mending, sleeping, with occasionalexcursions into the bush, with the dogs, in search of coati, hares, andrabbits, or to encounter a rattlesnake, and now and then a visit to thePresidio, filled up our spare time after hide-curing was over for theday. Another amusement, which we sometimes indulged in, was "burningthe water" for craw-fish. For this purpose, we procured a pair ofgrains, with a long staff like a harpoon, and making torches withtarred rope twisted round a long pine stick, took the only boat on thebeach, a small skiff, and with a torch-bearer in the bow, a steersmanin the stern, and one man on each side with the grains, went off, ondark nights, to burn the water. This is fine sport. Keeping within afew rods of the shore, where the water is not more than three or fourfeet deep, with a clear sandy bottom, the torches light everything upso that one could almost have seen a pin among the grains of sand. Thecraw-fish are an easy prey, and we used soon to get a load of them. The other fish were more difficult to catch, yet we frequently speareda number of them, of various kinds and sizes. The Pilgrim brought usdown a supply of fish-hooks, which we had never had before, on thebeach, and for several days we went down to the Point, and caught aquantity of cod and mackerel. On one of these expeditions, we saw abattle between two Sandwich Islanders and a shark. "Johnny" had beenplaying about our boat for some time, driving away the fish, andshowing his teeth at our bait, when we missed him, and in a few momentsheard a great shouting between two Kanakas who were fishing on the rockopposite to us: "E hana hana make i ka ia nui!" "E pii mai Aikane!"etc. , etc. ; and saw them pulling away on a stout line, and "JohnnyShark" floundering at the other end. The line soon broke; but theKanakas would not let him off so easily, and sprang directly into thewater after him. Now came the tug of war. Before we could get intodeep water, one of them seized him by the tail, and ran up with himupon the beach; but Johnny twisted round, turning his head under hisbody, and, showing his teeth in the vicinity of the Kanaka's hand, madehim let go and spring out of the way. The shark now turned tail andmade the best of his way, by flapping and floundering, toward deepwater; but here again, before he was fairly off, the other Kanakaseized him by the tail, and made a spring towards the beach, hiscompanion at the same time paying away upon him with stones and a largestick. As soon, however, as the shark could turn, he was obliged to letgo his hold; but the instant he made toward deep water, they were bothbehind him, watching their chance to seize him. In this way the battlewent on for some time, the shark, in a rage, splashing and twistingabout, and the Kanakas, in high excitement, yelling at the top of theirvoices; but the shark at last got off, carrying away a hook and linerand not a few severe bruises. 

CHAPTER XXI

CALIFORNIA AND ITS INHABITANTS

We kept up a constant connection with the Presidio, and by the close ofthe summer I had added much to my vocabulary, beside having made theacquaintance of nearly everybody in the place, and acquired someknowledge of the character and habits of the people, as well as of theinstitutions under which they live. 

California was first discovered in 1536, by Cortes, and wassubsequently visited by numerous other adventurers as well ascommissioned voyagers of the Spanish crown. It was found to beinhabited by numerous tribes of Indians, and to be in many partsextremely fertile; to which, of course, was added rumors of gold mines, pearl fishery, etc. No sooner was the importance of the country known, than the Jesuits obtained leave to establish themselves in it, toChristianize and enlighten the Indians. They established missions invarious parts of the country toward the close of the seventeenthcentury, and collected the natives about them, baptizing them into thechurch, and teaching them the arts of civilized life. To protect theJesuits in their missions, and at the same time to support the power ofthe crown over the civilized Indians, two forts were erected andgarrisoned, one at San Diego, and the other at Monterey. These werecalled Presidios, and divided the command of the whole country betweenthem. Presidios have since been established at Santa Barbara and SanFrancisco; thus dividing the country into four large districts, eachwith its presidio, and governed by the commandant. The soldiers, forthe most part, married civilized Indians; and thus, in the vicinity ofeach presidio, sprung up, gradually, small towns. In the course oftime, vessels began to come into the ports to trade with the missions, and received hides in return; and thus began the great trade ofCalifornia. Nearly all the cattle in the country belonged to themissions, and they employed their Indians, who became, in fact, theirslaves, in tending their vast herds. In the year 1793, when Vancouvervisited San Diego, the mission had obtained great wealth and power, andare accused of having depreciated the country with the sovereign, thatthey might be allowed to retain their possessions. On the expulsion ofthe Jesuits from the Spanish dominions, the missions passed into thehands of the Franciscans, though without any essential change in theirmanagement. Ever since the independence of Mexico, the missions havebeen going down; until, at last, a law was passed, stripping them ofall their possessions, and confining the priests to their spiritualduties; and at the same time declaring all the Indians free andindependent Rancheros. The change in the condition of the Indians was, as may be supposed, only nominal: they are virtually slaves, as much asthey ever were. But in the missions, the change was complete. Thepriests have now no power, except in their religious character, and thegreat possessions of the missions are given over to be preyed upon bythe harpies of the civil power, who are sent there in the capacity ofadministradores, to settle up the concerns; and who usually end, in afew years, by making themselves fortunes, and leaving theirstewardships worse than they found them. The dynasty of the priestswas much more acceptable to the people of the country, and indeed, toevery one concerned with the country, by trade or otherwise, than thatof the administradores. The priests were attached perpetually to onemission, and felt the necessity of keeping up its credit. Accordingly, their debts were regularly paid, and the people were, in the main, welltreated, and attached to those who had spent their whole lives amongthem. But the administradores are strangers sent from Mexico, having nointerest in the country; not identified in any way with their charge, and, for the most part, men of desperate fortunes--broken downpoliticians and soldiers--whose only object is to retrieve theircondition in as short a time as possible. The change had been made buta few years before our arrival upon the coast, yet, in that short time, the trade was much diminished, credit impaired, and the venerablemissions going rapidly to decay. The external arrangements remain thesame. There are four presidios, having under their protection thevarious missions, and pueblos, which are towns formed by the civilpower, and containing no mission or presidio. The most northerlypresidio is San Francisco; the next Monterey; the next Santa Barbara;including the mission of the same, St. Louis Obispo, and St. Buenaventura, which is the finest mission in the whole country, havingvery fertile soil and rich vineyards. The last, and most southerly, isSan Diego, including the mission of the same, San Juan Campestrano, thePueblo de los Angelos, the largest town in California, with theneighboring mission of San Gabriel. The priests in spiritual mattersare subject to the Archbishop of Mexico, and in temporal matters to thegovernor-general, who is the great civil and military head of thecountry. 

The government of the country is an arbitrary democracy; having nocommon law, and no judiciary. Their only laws are made and unmade atthe caprice of the legislature, and are as variable as the legislatureitself. They pass through the form of sending representatives to thecongress at Mexico, but as it takes several months to go and return, and there is very little communication between the capital and thisdistant province, a member usually stays there, as permanent member, knowing very well that there will be revolutions at home before he canwrite and receive an answer; if another member should be sent, he hasonly to challenge him, and decide the contested election in that way. 

Revolutions are matters of constant occurrence in California. They aregot up by men who are at the foot of the ladder and in desperatecircumstances, just as a new political party is started by such men inour own country. The only object, of course, is the loaves and fishes;and instead of caucusing, paragraphing, libelling, feasting, promising, and lying, as with us, they take muskets and bayonets, and seizing uponthe presidio and custom-house, divide the spoils, and declare a newdynasty. As for justice, they know no law but will and fear. AYankee, who had been naturalized, and become a Catholic, and hadmarried in the country, was sitting in his house at the Pueblo de losAngelos, with his wife and children, when a Spaniard, with whom he hadhad a difficulty, entered the house, and stabbed him to the heartbefore them all. The murderer was seized by some Yankees who hadsettled there, and kept in confinement until a statement of the wholeaffair could be sent to the governor-general. He refused to do anythingabout it, and the countrymen of the murdered man, seeing no prospect ofjustice being administered, made known that if nothing was done, theyshould try the man themselves. It chanced that, at this time, therewas a company of forty trappers and hunters from Kentucky, with theirrifles, who had made their head-quarters at the Pueblo; and these, together with the Americans and Englishmen in the place, who werebetween twenty and thirty in number, took possession of the town, andwaiting a reasonable time, proceeded to try the man according to theforms in their own country. A judge and jury were appointed, and hewas tried, convicted, sentenced to be shot, and carried out before thetown, with his eyes blindfolded. The names of all the men were thenput into a hat and each one pledging himself to perform his duty, twelve names were drawn out, and the men took their stations with theirrifles, and, firing at the word, laid him dead. He was decentlyburied, and the place was restored quietly to the proper authorities. A general, with titles enough for an hidalgo, was at San Gabriel, andissued a proclamation as long as the fore-top-bowline, threateningdestruction to the rebels, but never stirred from his fort; for fortyKentucky hunters, with their rifles, were a match for a whole regimentof hungry, drawling, lazy half-breeds. This affair happened while wewere at San Pedro, (the port of the Pueblo, ) and we had all theparticulars directly from those who were on the spot. A few monthsafterwards, another man, whom we had often seen in San Diego, murdereda man and his wife on the high road between the Pueblo and San LouisRey, and the foreigners not feeling themselves called upon to act inthis case, the parties being all natives, nothing was done about it;and I frequently afterwards saw the murderer in San Diego, where he wasliving with his wife and family. 

When a crime has been committed by Indians, justice, or rathervengeance, is not so tardy. One Sunday afternoon, while I was at SanDiego, an Indian was sitting on his horse, when another, with whom hehad had some difficulty, came up to him, drew a long knife, and plungedit directly into the horse's heart. The Indian sprang from his fallinghorse, drew out the knife, and plunged it into the other Indian'sbreast, over his shoulder, and laid him dead. The poor fellow wasseized at once, clapped into the calabozo, and kept there until ananswer could be received from Monterey. A few weeks afterwards, I sawthe poor wretch, sitting on the bare ground, in front of the calabozo, with his feet chained to a stake, and handcuffs about his wrists. Iknew there was very little hope for him. Although the deed was done inhot blood, the horse on which he was sitting being his own, and a greatfavorite, yet he was an Indian, and that was enough. In about a weekafter I saw him, I heard that he had been shot. These few instanceswill serve to give one a notion of the distribution of justice inCalifornia. 

In their domestic relations, these people are no better than in theirpublic. The men are thriftless, proud, and extravagant, and very muchgiven to gaming; and the women have but little education, and a gooddeal of beauty, and their morality, of course, is none of the best; yetthe instances of infidelity are much less frequent than one would atfirst suppose. In fact, one vice is set over against another; andthus, something like a balance is obtained. The women have but littlevirtue, but then the jealousy of their husbands is extreme, and theirrevenge deadly and almost certain. A few inches of cold steel has beenthe punishment of many an unwary man, who has been guilty, perhaps, ofnothing more than indiscretion of manner. The difficulties of theattempt are numerous, and the consequences of discovery fatal. Withthe unmarried women, too, great watchfulness is used. The main objectof the parents is to marry their daughters well, and to this, theslightest slip would be fatal. The sharp eyes of a dueña, and the coldsteel of a father or brother, are a protection which the characters ofmost of them--men and women--render by no means useless; for the verymen who would lay down their lives to avenge the dishonor of their ownfamily, would risk the same lives to complete the dishonor of another. 

Of the poor Indians, very little care is taken. The priests, indeed, at the missions, are said to keep them very strictly, and some rulesare usually made by the alcaldes to punish their misconduct; but it allamounts to but little. Indeed, to show the entire want of any sense ofmorality or domestic duty among them, I have frequently known an Indianto bring his wife, to whom he was lawfully married in the church, downto the beach, and carry her back again, dividing with her the moneywhich she had got from the sailors. If any of the girls werediscovered by the alcalde to be open evil-livers, they were whipped, and kept at work sweeping the square of the presidio, and carrying mudand bricks for the buildings; yet a few reáls would generally buy themoff. Intemperance, too, is a common vice among the Indians. TheSpaniards, on the contrary, are very abstemious, and I do not rememberever having seen a Spaniard intoxicated. 

Such are the people who inhabit a country embracing four or fivehundred miles of sea-coast, with several good harbors; with fineforests in the north; the waters filled with fish, and the plainscovered with thousands of herds of cattle; blessed with a climate, thanwhich there can be no better in the world; free from all manner ofdiseases, whether epidemic or endemic; and with a soil in which cornyields from seventy to eighty fold. In the hands of an enterprisingpeople, what a country this might be! we are ready to say. Yet howlong would a people remain so, in such a country? The Americans (asthose from the United States are called) and Englishmen, who are fastfilling up the principal towns, and getting the trade into their hands, are indeed more industrious and effective than the Spaniards; yet theirchildren are brought up Spaniards, in every respect, and if the"California fever" (laziness) spares the first generation, it alwaysattacks the second. 

CHAPTER XXII

LIFE ON SHORE--THE ALERT

Saturday, July 18th. This day, sailed the Mexican hermaphrodite brig, Fazio, for San Blas and Mazatlan. This was the brig which was drivenashore at San Pedro in a south-easter, and had been lying at San Diegoto repair and take in her cargo. The owner of her had had a good dealof difficulty with the government about the duties, etc. , and hersailing had been delayed for several weeks; but everything having beenarranged, she got under weigh with a light breeze, and was floating outof the harbor, when two horsemen came dashing down to the beach, atfull speed, and tried to find a boat to put off after her; but therebeing none on the beach, they offered a handful of silver to any Kanakawho would swim off and take a letter on board. One of the Kanakas, afine, active, well-made young fellow, instantly threw off everythingbut his duck trowsers, and putting the letter into his hat, swam off, after the vessel. Fortunately, the wind was very light and the vesselwas going slowly, so that, although she was nearly a mile off when hestarted, he gained on her rapidly. He went through the water leaving awake like a small steamboat. I certainly never saw such swimmingbefore. They saw him coming from the deck, but did not heave-to, suspecting the nature of his errand; yet, the wind continuing light, heswam alongside and got on board, and delivered his letter. The captainread the letter, told the Kanaka there was no answer, and giving him aglass of brandy, left him to jump overboard and find the best of hisway to the shore. The Kanaka swam in for the nearest point of land, and, in about an hour, made his appearance at the hide-house. He didnot seem at all fatigued, had made three or four dollars, got a glassof brandy, and was in fine spirits. The brig kept on her course, andthe government officers, who had come down to forbid her sailing, wentback, each with something like a flea in his ear, having depended uponextorting a little more money from the owner. 

It was now nearly three months since the Alert arrived at SantaBarbara, and we began to expect her daily. About a half a mile behindthe hide-house, was a high hill; and every afternoon, as soon as we haddone our work, some one of us walked up to see if there were any sailin sight, coming down before the regular trades, which blow everyafternoon. Each day, after the latter part of July, we went up thehill, and came back disappointed. I was anxious for her arrival, for Ihad been told by letter that the owners in Boston, at the request of myfriends, had written to Captain T---- to take me on board the Alert, incase she returned to the United States before the Pilgrim; and I, ofcourse, wished to know whether the order had been received, and whatwas the destination of the ship. One year more or less might be ofsmall consequence to others, but it was everything to me. It was nowjust a year since we sailed from Boston, and at the shortest, no vesselcould expect to get away under eight or nine months, which would makeour absence two years in all. This would be pretty long, but would notbe fatal. It would not necessarily be decisive of my future life. Butone year more would settle the matter. I should be a sailor for life;and although I had made up my mind to it before I had my letters fromhome, and was, as I thought, quite satisfied; yet, as soon as anopportunity was held out to me of returning, and the prospect ofanother kind of life was opened to me, my anxiety to return, and, atleast, to have the chance of deciding upon my course for myself, wasbeyond measure. Beside that, I wished to be "equal to either fortune, "and to qualify myself for an officer's berth, and a hide-house was noplace to learn seamanship in. I had become experienced in hide-curing, and everything went on smoothly, and I had many opportunities ofbecoming acquainted with the people, and much leisure for reading andstudying navigation; yet practical seamanship could only be got onboard ship; therefore, I determined to ask to be taken on board theship when she arrived. By the first of August, we finished curing allour hides, stored them away, cleaned out our vats, (in which latterwork we spent two days, up to our knees in mud and the sediments of sixmonths' hide-curing, in a stench which would drive a donkey from hisbreakfast, ) and got in readiness for the arrival of the ship, and hadanother leisure interval of three or four weeks; which I spent, asusual, in reading, writing, studying, making and mending my clothes, and getting my wardrobe in complete readiness, in case I should go onboard the ship; and in fishing, ranging the woods with the dogs, and inoccasional visits to the presidio and mission. A good deal of my timewas spent in taking care of a little puppy, which I had selected fromthirty-six, that were born within three days of one another, at ourhouse. He was a fine, promising pup, with four white paws, and all therest of his body of a dark brown. I built a little kennel for him, andkept him fastened there, away from the other dogs, feeding anddisciplining him myself. In a few weeks, I got him in completesubjection, and he grew finely, was very much attached to me, and bidfair to be one of the leading dogs on the beach. I called him Bravo, and the only thing I regretted at the thought of leaving the beach, wasparting with him. 

Day after day, we went up the hill, but no ship was to be seen, and webegan to form all sorts of conjectures as to her whereabouts; and thetheme of every evening's conversation at the different houses, and inour afternoon's paséo upon the beach, was the ship--where she couldbe--had she been to San Francisco?--how many hides she would bring, etc. , etc. 

Tuesday, August 25th. This morning, the officer in charge of our housewent off beyond the point a fishing, in a small canoe, with twoKanakas; and we were sitting quietly in our room at the hide-house, when, just before noon, we heard a complete yell of "Sail ho!" breakingout from all parts of the beach, at once, --from the Kanakas' oven tothe Rosa's house. In an instant, every one was out of his house; andthere was a fine, tall ship, with royals and skysails set, bending overbefore the strong afternoon breeze, and coming rapidly round the point. Her yards were braced sharp up; every sail was set, and drew well; theYankee ensign was flying from her mizen-peak; and having the tide inher favor, she came up like a race-horse. It was nearly six monthssince a new vessel had entered San Diego, and of course, every one wason the qui-vive. She certainly made a fine appearance. Her light sailswere taken in, as she passed the low, sandy tongue of land, and clewingup her head sails, she rounded handsomely to, under her mizen topsail, and let go the anchor at about a cable's length from the shore. In afew minutes, the topsail yards were manned, and all three of thetopsails furled at once. From the fore top-gallant yard, the men sliddown the stay to furl the jib, and from the mizen top-gallant yard, bythe stay, into the maintop, and thence to the yard; and the men on thetopsail yards came down the lifts to the yard-arms of the courses. Thesails were furled with great care, the bunts triced up by jiggers, andthe jibs stowed in cloth. The royal yards were then struck, tacklesgot upon the yard-arms and the stay, the long-boat hoisted out, a largeanchor carried astern, and the ship moored. Then the captain's gig waslowered away from the quarter, and a boat's crew of fine lads, betweenthe ages of fourteen and eighteen, pulled the captain ashore. The gigwas a light whale-boat, handsomely painted, and fitted up withcushions, etc. , in the stern sheets. We immediately attacked the boat'screw, and got very thick with them in a few minutes. We had much toask about Boston, their passage out, etc. , and they were very curiousto know about the life we were leading upon the beach. One of themoffered to exchange with me; which was just what I wanted; and we hadonly to get the permission of the captain. 

After dinner, the crew began discharging their hides, and, as we hadnothing to do at the hide-houses, we were ordered aboard to help them. I had now my first opportunity of seeing the ship which I hoped was tobe my home for the next year. She looked as well on board as she didfrom without. Her decks were wide and roomy, (there being no poop, orhouse on deck, which disfigures the after part of most of our vessels, )flush, fore and aft, and as white as snow, which the crew told us wasfrom constant use of holystones. There was no foolish gilding andgingerbread work, to take the eye of landsmen and passengers, buteverything was "ship-shape and Bristol fashion. " There was no rust, nodirt, no rigging hanging slack, no fag ends of ropes and "Irishpendants" aloft, and the yards were squared "to a t" by lifts andbraces. 

The mate was a fine, hearty, noisy fellow, with a voice like a lion, and always wide awake. He was "a man, every inch of him, " as thesailors said; and though "a bit of a horse, " and "a hard customer, " yethe was generally liked by the crew. There was also a second and thirdmate, a carpenter, sailmaker, steward, cook, etc. , and twelve, including boys, before the mast. She had, on board, seven thousandhides, which she had collected at the windward, and also horns andtallow. All these we began discharging, from both gangways at once, into the two boats, the second mate having charge of the launch, andthe third mate of the pinnace. For several days, we were employed inthis way, until all the hides were taken out, when the crew begantaking in ballast, and we returned to our old work, hide-curing. 

Saturday, Aug. 29th. Arrived, brig Catalina, from the windward. 

Sunday, 30th. This was the first Sunday that the crew had been in SanDiego, and of course they were all for going up to see the town. TheIndians came down early, with horses to let for the day, and all thecrew, who could obtain liberty, went off to the Presidio and mission, and did not return until night. I had seen enough of San Diego, andwent on board and spent the day with some of the crew, whom I foundquietly at work in the forecastle, mending and washing their clothes, and reading and writing. They told me that the ship stopped at Callaoin the passage out, and there lay three weeks. She had a passage oflittle over eighty days from Boston to Callao, which is one of theshortest on record. There, they left the Brandywine frigate, and othersmaller American ships of war, and the English frigate Blonde, and aFrench seventy-four. From Callao they came directly to California, andhad visited every port on the coast, including San Francisco. Theforecastle in which they lived was large, tolerably well lighted bybulls-eyes, and, being kept perfectly clean, had quite a comfortableappearance; at least, it was far better than the little, black, dirtyhole in which I had lived so many months on board the Pilgrim. By theregulations of the ship, the forecastle was cleaned out every morning, and the crew, being very neat, kept it clean by some regulations oftheir own, such as having a large spitbox always under the steps andbetween the bits, and obliging every man to hang up his wet clothes, etc. In addition to this, it was holystoned every Saturday morning. In the after part of the ship was a handsome cabin, a dining-room, anda trade-room, fitted out with shelves and furnished with all sorts ofgoods. Between these and the forecastle was the "between-decks, " ashigh as the gun deck of a frigate; being six feet and a half, under thebeams. These between-decks were holystoned regularly, and kept in themost perfect order; the carpenter's bench and tools being in one part, the sailmaker's in another, and boatswain's locker, with the sparerigging, in a third. A part of the crew slept here, in hammocks swungfore and aft from the beams, and triced up every morning. The sides ofthe between-decks were clapboarded, the knees and stanchions of iron, and the latter made to unship. The crew said she was as tight as adrum, and a fine sea boat, her only fault being, that of most fastships, --that she was wet, forward. When she was going, as shesometimes would, eight or nine knots on a wind, there would not be adry spot forward of the gangway. The men told great stories of hersailing, and had great confidence in her as a "lucky ship. " She wasseven years old, and had always been in the Canton trade, and never hadmet with an accident of any consequence, and had never made a passagethat was not shorter than the average. The third mate, a young man ofabout eighteen years of age, nephew of one of the owners, had been inthe ship from a small boy, and "believed in the ship;" and the chiefmate thought more of her than he would of a wife and family. 

The ship lay about a week longer in port, when, having discharged hercargo and taken in ballast, she prepared to get under weigh. I now mademy application to the captain to go on board. He told me that I couldgo home in the ship when she sailed (which I knew before); and, findingthat I wished to be on board while she was on the coast, said he had noobjection, if I could find one of my own age to exchange with me, forthe time. This, I easily accomplished, for they were glad to changethe scene by a few months on shore, and, moreover, escape the winterand the south-easters; and I went on board the next day, with my chestand hammock, and found myself once more afloat. 

CHAPTER XXIII

NEW SHIP AND SHIPMATES--MY WATCHMATE

Tuesday, Sept. 8th. This was my first day's duty on board the ship;and though a sailor's life is a sailor's life wherever it may be, yet Ifound everything very different here from the customs of the brigPilgrim. After all hands were called, at day-break, three minutes anda half were allowed for every man to dress and come on deck, and if anywere longer than that, they were sure to be overhauled by the mate, whowas always on deck, and making himself heard all over the ship. Thehead-pump was then rigged, and the decks washed down by the second andthird mates; the chief mate walking the quarter-deck and keeping ageneral supervision, but not deigning to touch a bucket or a brush. Inside and out, fore and aft, upper deck and between decks, steerageand forecastle, rail, bulwarks, and water-ways, were washed, scrubbedand scraped with brooms and canvas, and the decks were wet and sandedall over, and then holystoned. The holystone is a large, soft stone, smooth on the bottom, with long ropes attached to each end, by whichthe crew keep it sliding fore and aft, over the wet, sanded decks. Smaller hand-stones, which the sailors call "prayer-books, " are used toscrub in among the crevices and narrow places, where the largeholystone will not go. An hour or two, we were kept at this work, whenthe head-pump was manned, and all the sand washed off the decks andsides. Then came swabs and squilgees; and after the decks were dry, each one went to his particular morning job. There were five boatsbelonging to the ship, --launch, pinnace, jolly-boat, larboardquarter-boat, and gig, --each of which had a coxswain, who had charge ofit, and was answerable for the order and cleanness of it. The rest ofthe cleaning was divided among the crew; one having the brass andcomposition work about the capstan; another the bell, which was ofbrass, and kept as bright as a gilt button; a third, the harness-cask;another, the man-rope stanchions; others, the steps of the forecastleand hatchways, which were hauled up and holystoned. Each of these jobsmust be finished before breakfast; and, in the meantime, the rest ofthe crew filled the scuttle-butt, and the cook scraped his kids (woodentubs out of which the sailors eat) and polished the hoops, and placedthem before the galley, to await inspection. When the decks were dry, the lord paramount made his appearance on the quarter-deck, and took afew turns, when eight bells were struck, and all hands went tobreakfast. Half an hour was allowed for breakfast, when all hands werecalled again; the kids, pots, bread-bags, etc. , stowed away; and, thismorning, preparations were made for getting under weigh. We paid outon the chain by which we swung; hove in on the other; catted theanchor; and hove short on the first. This work was done in shortertime than was usual on board the brig; for though everything was morethan twice as large and heavy, the cat-block being as much as a mancould lift, and the chain as large as three of the Pilgrim's, yet therewas a plenty of room to move about in, more discipline and system, moremen, and more good will. Every one seemed ambitious to do his best:officers and men knew their duty, and all went well. As soon as she washove short, the mate, on the forecastle, gave the order to loose thesails, and, in an instant, every one sprung into the rigging, up theshrouds, and out on the yards, scrambling by one another, --the first upthe best fellow, --cast off the yard-arm gaskets and bunt gaskets, andone man remained on each yard, holding the bunt jigger with a turnround the tye, all ready to let go, while the rest laid down to man thesheets and halyards. The mate then hailed the yards--"All readyforward?"--"All ready the cross-jack yards?" etc. , etc. , and "Aye, aye, sir!" being returned from each, the word was given to let go; and inthe twinkling of an eye, the ship, which had shown nothing but her bareyards, was covered with her loose canvas, from the royal-mast-heads tothe decks. Every one then laid down, except one man in each top, tooverhaul the rigging, and the topsails were hoisted and sheeted home;all three yards going to the mast-head at once, the larboard watchhoisting the fore, the starboard watch the main, and five light hands, (of whom I was one, ) picked from the two watches, the mizen. The yardswere then trimmed, the anchor weighed, the cat-block hooked on, thefall stretched out, manned by "all hands and the cook, " and the anchorbrought to the head with "cheerily men!" in full chorus. The shipbeing now under weigh, the light sails were set, one after another, andshe was under full sail, before she had passed the sandy point. Thefore royal, which fell to my lot, (being in the mate's watch, ) was morethan twice as large as that of the Pilgrim, and, though I could handlethe brig's easily, I found my hands full, with this, especially asthere were no jacks to the ship; everything being for neatness, andnothing left for Jack to hold on by, but his eyelids. 

As soon as we were beyond the point, and all sail out, the order wasgiven, "Go below the watch!" and the crew said that, ever since theyhad been on the coast, they had had "watch and watch, " while going fromport to port; and, in fact, everything showed that, though strictdiscipline was kept, and the utmost was required of every man, in theway of his duty, yet, on the whole, there was very good usage on board. Each one knew that he must be a man, and show himself smart when at hisduty, yet every one was satisfied with the usage; and a contented crew, agreeing with one another, and finding no fault, was a contrast indeedwith the small, hard-used, dissatisfied, grumbling, desponding crew ofthe Pilgrim. 

It being the turn of our watch to go below, the men went to work, mending their clothes, and doing other little things for themselves;and I, having got my wardrobe in complete order at San Diego, hadnothing to do but to read. I accordingly overhauled the chests of thecrew, but found nothing that suited me exactly, until one of the mensaid he had a book which "told all about a great highway-man, " at thebottom of his chest, and producing it, I found, to my surprise and joy, that it was nothing else than Bulwer's Paul Clifford. This, I seizedimmediately, and going to my hammock, lay there, swinging and reading, until the watch was out. The between-decks were clear, the hatchwaysopen, and a cool breeze blowing through them, the ship under easy way, and everything comfortable. I had just got well into the story, wheneight bells were struck, and we were all ordered to dinner. Afterdinner came our watch on deck for four hours, and, at four o'clock, Iwent below again, turned into my hammock, and read until the dog watch. As no lights were allowed after eight o'clock, there was no reading inthe night watch. Having light winds and calms, we were three days onthe passage, and each watch below, during the daytime, I spent in thesame manner, until I had finished my book. I shall never forget theenjoyment I derived from it. To come across anything with theslightest claims to literary merit, was so unusual, that this was aperfect feast to me. The brilliancy of the book, the succession ofcapital hits, lively and characteristic sketches, kept me in a constantstate of pleasing sensations. It was far too good for a sailor. Icould not expect such fine times to last long. 

While on deck, the regular work of the ship went on. The sailmaker andcarpenter worked between decks, and the crew had their work to do uponthe rigging, drawing yarns, making spun-yarn, etc. , as usual inmerchantmen. The night watches were much more pleasant than on boardthe Pilgrim. There, there were so few in a watch, that, one being atthe wheel, and another on the look-out, there was no one left to talkwith; but here, we had seven in a watch, so that we had long yarns, inabundance. After two or three night watches, I became quite wellacquainted with all the larboard watch. The sailmaker was the head manof the watch, and was generally considered the most experienced seamanon board. He was a thoroughbred old man-of-war's-man, had been to seatwenty-two years, in all kinds of vessels--men-of-war, privateers, slavers, and merchantmen;--everything except whalers, which a thoroughsailor despises, and will always steer clear of, if he can. He had, ofcourse, been in all parts of the world, and was remarkable for drawinga long bow. His yarns frequently stretched through a watch, and keptall hands awake. They were always amusing from their improbability, and, indeed, he never expected to be believed, but spun them merely foramusement; and as he had some humor and a good supply of man-of-warslang and sailor's salt phrases, he always made fun. Next to him inage and experience, and, of course, in standing in the watch, was anEnglishman, named Harris, of whom I shall have more to say hereafter. Then, came two or three Americans, who had been the common run ofEuropean and South American voyages, and one who had been in a"spouter, " and, of course, had all the whaling stories to himself. Last of all, was a broad-backed, thick-headed boy from Cape Cod, whohad been in mackerel schooners, and was making his first voyage in asquare-rigged vessel. He was born in Hingham, and of course was called"Bucketmaker. " The other watch was composed of about the same number. A tall, fine-looking Frenchman, with coal-black whiskers and curlyhair, a first-rate seaman, and named John, (one name is enough for asailor, ) was the head man of the watch. Then came two Americans (oneof whom had been a dissipated young man of property and family, and wasreduced to duck trowsers and monthly wages, ) a German, an English lad, named Ben, who belonged on the mizen topsail yard with me, and was agood sailor for his years, and two Boston boys just from the publicschools. The carpenter sometimes mustered in the starboard watch, andwas an old sea-dog, a Swede by birth, and accounted the best helmsmanin the ship. This was our ship's company, beside cook and steward, whowere blacks, three mates, and the captain. 

The second day out, the wind drew ahead, and we had to beat up thecoast; so that, in tacking ship, I could see the regulations of thevessel. Instead of going wherever was most convenient, and runningfrom place to place, wherever work was to be done, each man had hisstation. A regular tacking and wearing bill was made out. The chiefmate commanded on the forecastle, and had charge of the head sails andthe forward part of the ship. Two of the best men in the ship--thesailmaker from our watch, and John, the Frenchman, from the other, worked the forecastle. The third mate commanded in the waist, and, with the carpenter and one man, worked the main tack and bowlines; thecook, ex-officio, the fore sheet, and the steward the main. The secondmate had charge of the after yards, and let go the lee fore and mainbraces. I was stationed at the weather cross-jack braces; three otherlight hands at the lee; one boy at the spanker-sheet and guy; a man anda boy at the main topsail, top-gallant, and royal braces; and all therest of the crew--men and boys--tallied on to the main brace. Everyone here knew his station, must be there when all hands were called toput the ship about, and was answerable for every rope committed to him. Each man's rope must be let go and hauled in at the order, properlymade fast, and neatly coiled away when the ship was about. As soon asall hands are at their stations, the captain, who stands on the weatherside of the quarter-deck, makes a sign to the man at the wheel to putit down, and calls out "Helm's a lee'!" "Helm's a lee'!" answers themate on the forecastle, and the head sheets are let go. "Raise tacksand sheets!" says the captain; "tacks and sheets!" is passed forward, and the fore tack and main sheet are let go. The next thing is to haultaught for a swing. The weather cross-jack braces and the lee mainbraces are each belayed together upon two pins, and ready to be let go;and the opposite braces hauled taught. "Main topsail haul!" shouts thecaptain; the braces are let go; and if he has taken his time well, theyards swing round like a top; but if he is too late, or too soon, it islike drawing teeth. The after yards are then braced up and belayed, the main sheet hauled aft, the spanker eased over to leeward, and themen from the braces stand by the head yards. "Let go and haul!" saysthe captain; the second mate lets go the weather fore braces, and themen haul in to leeward. The mate, on the forecastle, looks out for thehead yards. "Well, the fore topsail yard!" "Top-gallant yard's well!""Royal yard too much! Haul into windward! So! well that!" "Well all!"Then the starboard watch board the main tack, and the larboard watchlay forward and board the fore tack and haul down the jib sheet, clapping a tackle upon it, if it blows very fresh. The after yards arethen trimmed, the captain generally looking out for them himself. "Well the cross-jack yard!" "Small pull the main top-gallant yard!""Well that!" "Well the mizen top-gallant yard!" "Cross-jack yards allwell!" "Well all aft!" "Haul taught to windward!" Everything beingnow trimmed and in order, each man coils up the rigging at his ownstation, and the order is given--"Go below the watch!"

During the last twenty-four hours of the passage, we beat off and onthe land, making a tack about once in four hours, so that I had asufficient opportunity to observe the working of the ship; andcertainly, it took no more men to brace about this ship's lower yards, which were more than fifty feet square, than it did those of thePilgrim, which were not much more than half the size; so much dependsupon the manner in which the braces run, and the state of the blocks;and Captain Wilson, of the Ayacucho, who was afterwards a passengerwith us, upon a trip to windward, said he had no doubt that our shipworked two men lighter than his brig. 

Friday, Sept. 11th. This morning, at four o'clock, went below, SanPedro point being about two leagues ahead, and the ship going on understudding-sails. In about an hour we were waked up by the hauling ofthe chain about decks, and in a few minutes "All hands ahoy!" wascalled; and we were all at work, hauling in and making up thestudding-sails, overhauling the chain forward, and getting the anchorsready. "The Pilgrim is there at anchor, " said some one, as we wererunning about decks; and taking a moment's look over the rail, I saw myold friend, deeply laden, lying at anchor inside of the kelp. Incoming to anchor, as well as in tacking, each one had his station andduty. The light sails were clewed up and furled, the courses hauled upand the jibs down; then came the topsails in the buntlines, and theanchor let go. As soon as she was well at anchor, all hands lay aloftto furl the topsails; and this, I soon found, was a great matter onboard this ship; for every sailor knows that a vessel is judged of, agood deal, by the furl of her sails. The third mate, a sailmaker, andthe larboard watch went upon the fore topsail yard; the second mate, carpenter, and the starboard watch upon the main; and myself and theEnglish lad, and the two Boston boys, and the young Cape-Cod man, furled the mizen topsail. This sail belonged to us altogether, to reefand to furl, and not a man was allowed to come upon our yard. The matetook us under his special care, frequently making us furl the sailover, three or four times, until we got the bunt up to a perfect cone, and the whole sail without a wrinkle. As soon as each sail was hauledup and the bunt made, the jigger was bent on to the slack of thebuntlines, and the bunt triced up, on deck. The mate then took hisplace between the knightheads to "twig" the fore, on the windlass totwig the main, and at the foot of the mainmast, for the mizen; and ifanything was wrong, --too much bunt on one side, clews too taught or tooslack, or any sail abaft the yard, --the whole must be dropped again. When all was right, the bunts were triced well up, the yard-arm gasketspassed, so as not to leave a wrinkle forward of the yard--short gasketswith turns close together. 

From the moment of letting go the anchor, when the captain ceases hiscare of things, the chief mate is the great man. With a voice like ayoung lion, he was hallooing and bawling, in all directions, makingeverything fly, and, at the same time, doing everything well. He wasquite a contrast to the worthy, quiet, unobtrusive mate of the Pilgrim;not so estimable a man, perhaps, but a far better mate of a vessel; andthe entire change in Captain T----'s conduct, since he took command ofthe ship, was owing, no doubt, in a great measure, to this fact. Ifthe chief officer wants force, discipline slackens, everything gets outof joint, the captain interferes continually; that makes a difficultybetween them, which encourages the crew, and the whole ends in athree-sided quarrel. But Mr. Brown (the mate of the Alert) wanted nohelp from anybody; took everything into his own hands; and was morelikely to encroach upon the authority of the master, than to need anyspurring. Captain T---- gave his directions to the mate in private, and, except in coming to anchor, getting under weigh, tacking, reefingtopsails, and other "all-hands-work, " seldom appeared in person. Thisis the proper state of things, and while this lasts, and there is agood understanding aft, everything will go on well. 

Having furled all the sails, the royal yards were next to be sent down. The English lad and myself sent down the main, which was larger thanthe Pilgrim's main top-gallant yard; two more light hands, the fore;and one boy, the mizen. This order, we always kept while on the coast;sending them up and down every time we came in and went out of port. They were all tripped and lowered together, the main on the starboardside, and the fore and mizen, to port. No sooner was she all snug, than tackles were got up on the yards and stays, and the long-boat andpinnace hove out. The swinging booms were then guyed out, and the boatsmade fast by geswarps, and everything in harbor style. Afterbreakfast, the hatches were taken off, and all got ready to receivehides from the Pilgrim. All day, boats were passing and repassing, until we had taken her hides from her, and left her in ballast trim. These hides made but little show in our hold, though they had loadedthe Pilgrim down to the water's edge. This changing of the hidessettled the question of the destination of the two vessels, which hadbeen one of some speculation to us. We were to remain in the leewardports, while the Pilgrim was to sail, the next morning, for SanFrancisco. After we had knocked off work, and cleared up decks for thenight, my friend S---- came on board, and spent an hour with me in ourberth between decks. The Pilgrim's crew envied me my place on board theship, and seemed to think that I had got a little to windward of them;especially in the matter of going home first. S---- was determined togo home on the Alert, by begging or buying; if Captain T---- would notlet him come on other terms, he would purchase an exchange with someone of the crew. The prospect of another year after the Alert shouldsail, was rather "too much of the monkey. " About seven o'clock, themate came down into the steerage, in fine trim for fun, roused the boysout of the berth, turned up the carpenter with his fiddle, sent thesteward with lights to put in the between-decks, and set all hands todancing. The between-decks were high enough to allow of jumping; andbeing clear, and white, from holystoning, made a fine dancing-hall. Some of the Pilgrim's crew were in the forecastle, and we all turned-toand had a regular sailor's shuffle, till eight bells. The Cape-Cod boycould dance the true fisherman's jig, barefooted, knocking with hisheels, and slapping the decks with his bare feet, in time with themusic. This was a favorite amusement of the mate's, who always stoodat the steerage door, looking on, and if the boys would not dance, hehazed them round with a rope's end, much to the amusement of the men. 

The next morning, according to the orders of the agent, the Pilgrim setsail for the windward, to be gone three or four months. She got underweigh with very little fuss, and came so near us as to throw a letteron board, Captain Faucon standing at the tiller himself, and steeringher as he would a mackerel smack. When Captain T---- was in command ofthe Pilgrim, there was as much preparation and ceremony as there wouldbe in getting a seventy-four under weigh. Captain Faucon was a sailor, every inch of him; he knew what a ship was, and was as much at home inone, as a cobbler in his stall. I wanted no better proof of this thanthe opinion of the ship's crew, for they had been six months under hiscommand, and knew what he was; and if sailors allow their captain to bea good seaman, you may be sure he is one, for that is a thing they arenot always ready to say. 

After the Pilgrim left us, we lay three weeks at San Pedro, from the11th of September until the 2nd of October, engaged in the usual portduties of landing cargo, taking off hides, etc. , etc. These dutieswere much easier, and went on much more agreeably, than on board thePilgrim. "The more, the merrier, " is the sailor's maxim; and a boat'screw of a dozen could take off all the hides brought down in a day, without much trouble, by division of labor; and on shore, as well as onboard, a good will, and no discontent or grumbling, make everything gowell. The officer, too, who usually went with us, the third mate, wasa fine young fellow, and made no unnecessary trouble; so that wegenerally had quite a sociable time, and were glad to be relieved fromthe restraint of the ship. While here, I often thought of themiserable, gloomy weeks we had spent in this dull place, in the brig;discontent and hard usage on board, and four hands to do all the workon shore. Give me a big ship. There is more room, more hands, betteroutfit, better regulation, more life, and more company. Another thingwas better arranged here: we had a regular gig's crew. A lightwhale-boat, handsomely painted, and fitted out with stern seats, yoke, tiller-ropes, etc. , hung on the starboard quarter, and was used as thegig. The youngest lad in the ship, a Boston boy about thirteen yearsold, was coxswain of this boat, and had the entire charge of her, tokeep her clean, and have her in readiness to go and come at any hour. Four light hands, of about the same size and age, of whom I was one, formed the crew. Each had his oar and seat numbered, and we wereobliged to be in our places, have our oars scraped white, our tholepinsin, and the fenders over the side. The bow-man had charge of theboat-hook and painter, and the coxswain of the rudder, yoke, andstern-sheets. Our duty was to carry the captain and agent about, andpassengers off and on; which last was no trifling duty, as the peopleon shore have no boats, and every purchaser, from the boy who buys hispair of shoes, to the trader who buys his casks and bales, were to betaken off and on, in our boat. Some days, when people were coming andgoing fast, we were in the boat, pulling off and on, all day long, withhardly time for our meals; making, as we lay nearly three miles fromshore, from forty to fifty miles' rowing in a day. Still, we thought itthe best berth in the ship; for when the gig was employed, we hadnothing to do with the cargo, except small bundles which the passengerscarried with them, and no hides to carry, besides the opportunity ofseeing everybody, making acquaintances, hearing the news, etc. Unlessthe captain or agent were in the boat, we had no officer with us, andoften had fine times with the passengers, who were always willing totalk and joke with us. Frequently, too, we were obliged to waitseveral hours on shore; when we would haul the boat up on the beach, and leaving one to watch her, go up to the nearest house, or spend thetime in strolling about the beach, picking up shells, or playinghopscotch, and other games, on the hard sand. The rest of the crewnever left the ship, except for bringing heavy goods and taking offhides; and though we were always in the water, the surf hardly leavingus a dry thread from morning till night, yet we were young, and theclimate was good, and we thought it much better than the quiet, hum-drum drag and pull on board ship. We made the acquaintance ofnearly half of California; for, besides carrying everybody in ourboat, --men, women, and children, --all the messages, letters, and lightpackages went by us, and being known by our dress, we found a readyreception everywhere. 

At San Pedro, we had none of this amusement, for, there being but onehouse in the place, we, of course, had but little company. All thevariety that I had, was riding, once a week, to the nearest rancho, toorder a bullock down for the ship. 

The brig Catalina came in from San Diego, and being bound up towindward, we both got under weigh at the same time, for a trial ofspeed up to Santa Barbara, a distance of about eighty miles. We hove upand got under sail about eleven o'clock at night, with a lightland-breeze, which died away toward morning, leaving us becalmed only afew miles from our anchoring-place. The Catalina, being a smallvessel, of less than half our size, put out sweeps and got a boatahead, and pulled out to sea, during the night, so that she had thesea-breeze earlier and stronger than we did, and we had themortification of seeing her standing up the coast, with a fine breeze, the sea all ruffled about her, while we were becalmed, in-shore. Whenthe sea-breeze died away, she was nearly out of sight; and, toward thelatter part of the afternoon, the regular north-west wind set in fresh, we braced sharp upon it, took a pull at every sheet, tack, and halyard, and stood after her, in fine style, our ship being very good upon ataughtened bowline. We had nearly five hours of fine sailing, beatingup to windward, by long stretches in and off shore, and evidentlygaining upon the Catalina at every tack. When this breeze left us, wewere so near as to count the painted ports on her side. Fortunately, the wind died away when we were on our inward tack, and she on heroutward, so we were in-shore, and caught the land-breeze first, whichcame off upon our quarter, about the middle of the first watch. Allhands were turned-up, and we set all sail, to the skysails and theroyal studding-sails; and with these, we glided quietly through thewater, leaving the Catalina, which could not spread so much canvas aswe, gradually astern, and, by daylight, were off St. Buenaventura, andour antagonist nearly out of sight. The sea-breeze, however, favoredher again, while we were becalmed under the headland, and laboringslowly along, she was abreast of us by noon. Thus we continued, ahead, astern, and abreast of one another, alternately; now, far out at sea, and again, close in under the shore. On the third morning, we cameinto the great bay of Santa Barbara, two hours behind the brig, andthus lost the bet; though, if the race had been to the point, we shouldhave beaten her by five or six hours. This, however, settled therelative sailing of the vessels, for it was admitted that although she, being small and light, could gain upon us in very light winds, yetwhenever there was breeze enough to set us agoing, we walked away fromher like hauling in a line; and in beating to windward, which is thebest trial of a vessel, we had much the advantage of her. 

Sunday, Oct. 4th. This was the day of our arrival; and somehow orother, our captain always managed not only to sail, but to come intoport, on a Sunday. The main reason for sailing on the Sabbath is not, as many people suppose, because Sunday is thought a lucky day, butbecause it is a leisure day. During the six days, the crew areemployed upon the cargo and other ship's works, and the Sabbath, beingtheir only day of rest, whatever additional work can be thrown intoSunday, is so much gain to the owners. This is the reason of ourcoasters, packets, etc, sailing on the Sabbath. They get six gooddays' work out of the crew, and then throw all the labor of sailinginto the Sabbath. Thus it was with us, nearly all the time we were onthe coast, and many of our Sabbaths were lost entirely to us. TheCatholics on shore have no trading and make no journeys on Sunday, butthe American has no national religion, and likes to show hisindependence of priestcraft by doing as he chooses on the Lord's day. 

Santa Barbara looked very much as it did when I left it five monthsbefore: the long sand beach, with the heavy rollers, breaking upon itin a continual roar, and the little town, imbedded on the plain, girtby its amphitheatre of mountains. Day after day, the sun shone clearand bright upon the wide bay and the red roofs of the houses;everything being as still as death, the people really hardly seeming toearn their sun-light. Daylight actually seemed thrown away upon them. We had a few visitors, and collected about a hundred hides, and everynight, at sundown, the gig was sent ashore, to wait for the captain, who spent his evenings in the town. We always took our monkey-jacketswith us, and flint and steel, and made a fire on the beach with thedriftwood and the bushes we pulled from the neighboring thickets, andlay down by it, on the sand. Sometimes we would stray up to the town, if the captain was likely to stay late, and pass the time at some ofthe houses, in which we were almost always well received by theinhabitants. Sometimes earlier and sometimes later, the captain camedown; when, after a good drenching in the surf, we went aboard, changedour clothes, and turned in for the night--yet not for all the night, for there was the anchor watch to stand. 

This leads me to speak of my watchmate for nine months--and, taking himall in all, the most remarkable man I have ever seen--Tom Harris. Anhour, every night, while lying in port, Harris and myself had the deckto ourselves, and walking fore and aft, night after night, for months, I learned his whole character and history, and more about foreignnations, the habits of different people, and especially the secrets ofsailors' lives and hardships, and also of practical seamanship, (inwhich he was abundantly capable of instructing me, ) than I could everhave learned elsewhere. But the most remarkable thing about him, wasthe power of his mind. His memory was perfect; seeming to form aregular chain, reaching from his earliest childhood up to the time Iknew him, without one link wanting. His power of calculation, too, wasremarkable. I called myself pretty quick at figures, and had beenthrough a course of mathematical studies; but, working by my head, Iwas unable to keep within sight of this man, who had never been beyondhis arithmetic: so rapid was his calculation. He carried in his headnot only a log-book of the whole voyage, in which everything wascomplete and accurate, and from which no one ever thought of appealing, but also an accurate registry of all the cargo; knowing, precisely, where each thing was, and how many hides we took in at every port. 

One night, he made a rough calculation of the number of hides thatcould be stowed in the lower hold, between the fore and main masts, taking the depth of hold and breadth of beam, (for he always knew thedimension of every part of the ship, before he had been a month onboard, ) and the average area and thickness of a hide; he camesurprisingly near the number, as it afterwards turned out. The matefrequently came to him to know the capacity of different parts of thevessel, so he could tell the sailmaker very nearly the amount of canvashe would want for each sail in the ship; for he knew the hoist of everymast, and spread of every sail, on the head and foot, in feet andinches. When we were at sea, he kept a running account, in his head, of the ship's way--the number of knots and the courses; and if thecourses did not vary much during the twenty-four hours, by taking thewhole progress, and allowing so many eighths southing or northing, toso many easting or westing; he would make up his reckoning just beforethe captain took the sun at noon, and often came wonderfully near themark. Calculation of all kinds was his delight. He had, in his chest, several volumes giving accounts of inventions in mechanics, which heread with great pleasure, and made himself master of. I doubt if heever forgot anything that he read. The only thing in the way of poetrythat he ever read was Falconer's Shipwreck, which he was delightedwith, and whole pages of which he could repeat. He knew the name ofevery sailor that had ever been his shipmate, and also, of everyvessel, captain, and officer, and the principal dates of each voyage;and a sailor whom he afterwards fell in with, who had been in a shipwith Harris nearly twelve years before, was very much surprised athaving Harris tell him things about himself which he had entirelyforgotten. His facts, whether dates or events, no one thought ofdisputing; and his opinions, few of the sailors dared to oppose; for, right or wrong, he always had the best of the argument with them. Hisreasoning powers were remarkable. I have had harder work maintainingan argument with him in a watch, even when I knew myself to be right, and he was only doubting, than I ever had before; not from hisobstinacy, but from his acuteness. Give him only a little knowledge ofhis subject, and, certainly among all the young men of my acquaintanceand standing at college, there was not one whom I had not rather meet, than this man. I never answered a question from him, or advanced anopinion to him, without thinking more than once. With an iron memory, he seemed to have your whole past conversation at command, and if yousaid a thing now which ill agreed with something said months before, hewas sure to have you on the hip. In fact, I always felt, when withhim, that I was with no common man. I had a positive respect for hispowers of mind, and felt often that if half the pains had been spentupon his education which are thrown away, yearly, in our colleges, hewould have been a man of great weight in society. Like mostself-taught men, he over-estimated the value of an education; and this, I often told him, though I profited by it myself; for he always treatedme with respect, and often unnecessarily gave way to me, from anover-estimate of my knowledge. For the intellectual capacities of allthe rest of the crew, captain and all, he had the most sovereigncontempt. He was a far better sailor, and probably a better navigator, than the captain, and had more brains than all the after part of theship put together. The sailors said, "Tom's got a head as long as thebowsprit, " and if any one got into an argument with him, they wouldcall out--"Ah, Jack! you'd better drop that, as you would a hot potato, for Tom will turn you inside out before you know it. "

I recollect his posing me once on the subject of the Corn Laws. I wascalled to stand my watch, and, coming on deck, found him there beforeme; and we began, as usual, to walk fore and aft, in the waist. Hetalked about the Corn Laws; asked me my opinion about them, which Igave him; and my reasons; my small stock of which I set forth to thebest advantage, supposing his knowledge on the subject must be lessthan mine, if, indeed, he had any at all. When I had got through, hetook the liberty of differing from me, and, to my surprise, broughtarguments and facts connected with the subject which were new to me, towhich I was entirely unable to reply. I confessed that I knew almostnothing of the subject, and expressed my surprise at the extent of hisinformation. He said that, a number of years before, while at aboarding-house in Liverpool, he had fallen in with a pamphlet on thesubject, and, as it contained calculations, had read it very carefully, and had ever since wished to find some one who could add to his stockof knowledge on the question. Although it was many years since he hadseen the book, and it was a subject with which he had no previousacquaintance, yet he had the chain of reasoning, founded uponprinciples of political economy, perfect in his memory; and his facts, so far as I could judge, were correct; at least, he stated them withgreat precision. The principles of the steam engine, too, he was veryfamiliar with, having been several months on board of a steamboat, andmade himself master of its secrets. He knew every lunar star in bothhemispheres, and was a perfect master of his quadrant and sextant. Such was the man, who, at forty, was still a dog before the mast, attwelve dollars a month. The reason of this was to be found in hiswhole past life, as I had it, at different times, from himself. 

He was an Englishman, by birth, a native of Ilfracomb, in Devonshire. His father was skipper of a small coaster, from Bristol, and dying, left him, when quite young, to the care of his mother, by whoseexertions he received a common-school education, passing his winters atschool and his summers in the coasting trade, until his seventeenthyear, when he left home to go upon foreign voyages. Of his mother, heoften spoke with the greatest respect, and said that she was astrong-minded woman, and had the best system of education he had everknown; a system which had made respectable men of his three brothers, and failed only in him, from his own indomitable obstinacy. One thinghe often mentioned, in which he said his mother differed from all othermothers that he had ever seen disciplining their children; that was, that when he was out of humor and refused to eat, instead of puttinghis plate away, as most mothers would, and saying that his hunger wouldbring him to it, in time, she would stand over him and oblige him toeat it--every mouthful of it. It was no fault of hers that he was whatI saw him; and so great was his sense of gratitude for her efforts, though unsuccessful, that he determined, at the close of the voyage, toembark for home with all the wages he should get, to spend with and forhis mother, if perchance he should find her alive. 

After leaving home, he had spent nearly twenty years, sailing upon allsorts of voyages, generally out of the ports of New York and Boston. Twenty years of vice! Every sin that a sailor knows, he had gone tothe bottom of. Several times he had been hauled up in the hospitals, and as often, the great strength of his constitution had brought himout again in health. Several times, too, from his known capacity, hehad been promoted to the office of chief mate, and as often, hisconduct when in port, especially his drunkenness, which neither fearnor ambition could induce him to abandon, put him back into theforecastle. One night, when giving me an account of his life, andlamenting the years of manhood he had thrown away, he said that there, in the forecastle, at the foot of the steps--a chest of oldclothes--was the result of twenty-two years of hard labor andexposure--worked like a horse, and treated like a dog. As he grewolder, he began to feel the necessity of some provision for his lateryears, and came gradually to the conviction that rum had been his worstenemy. One night, in Havana, a young shipmate of his was broughtaboard drunk, with a dangerous gash in his head, and his money and newclothes stripped from him. Harris had seen and been in hundreds ofsuch scenes as these, but in his then state of mind, it fixed hisdetermination, and he resolved never to taste another drop of strongdrink, of any kind. He signed no pledge, and made no vow, but reliedon his own strength of purpose. The first thing with him was a reason, and then a resolution, and the thing was done. The date of hisresolution he knew, of course, to the very hour. It was three yearsbefore I knew him, and during all that time, nothing stronger thancider or coffee had passed his lips. The sailors never thought ofenticing Tom to take a glass, any more than they would of talking tothe ship's compass. He was now a temperate man for life, and capableof filling any berth in a ship, and many a high station there is onshore which is held by a meaner man. 

He understood the management of a ship upon scientific principles, andcould give the reason for hauling every rope; and a long experience, added to careful observation at the time, and a perfect memory, gavehim a knowledge of the expedients and resorts in times of hazard, whichwas remarkable, and for which I became much indebted to him, as he tookthe greatest pleasure in opening his stores of information to me, inreturn for what I was able to do for him. Stories of tyranny andhardship which had driven men to piracy;--of the incredible ignoranceof masters and mates, and of horrid brutality to the sick, dead, anddying; as well as of the secret knavery and impositions practised uponseamen by connivance of the owners, landlords, and officers; all thesehe had, and I could not but believe them; for men who had known him forfifteen years had never taken him even in an exaggeration, and, as Ihave said, his statements were never disputed. I remember, among otherthings, his speaking of a captain whom I had known by report, who neverhanded a thing to a sailor, but put it on deck and kicked it to him;and of another, who was of the best connections in Boston, whoabsolutely murdered a lad from Boston that went out with him before themast to Sumatra, by keeping him hard at work while ill of the coastfever, and obliging him to sleep in the close steerage. (The samecaptain has since died of the same fever on the same coast. )

In fact, taking together all that I learned from him of seamanship, ofthe history of sailors' lives, of practical wisdom, and of human natureunder new circumstances, --a great history from which many are shutout, --I would not part with the hours I spent in the watch with thatman for any given hours of my life passed in study and socialintercourse. 

CHAPTER XXIV

SAN DIEGO AGAIN--A DESCENT--HURRIED DEPARTURE--A NEW SHIPMATE

Sunday, Oct. 11th. Set sail this morning for the leeward; passedwithin sight of San Pedro, and, to our great joy, did not come toanchor, but kept directly on to San Diego, where we arrived and mooredship on. 

Thursday, Oct. 15th. Found here the Italian ship La Rosa, from thewindward, which reported the brig Pilgrim at San Francisco, all well. Everything was as quiet here as usual. We discharged our hides, horns, and tallow, and were ready to sail again on the following Sunday. Iwent ashore to my old quarters, and found the gang at the hide-housegoing on in the even tenor of their way, and spent an hour or two, after dark, at the oven, taking a whiff with my old Kanaka friends, whoreally seemed glad to see me again, and saluted me as the Aikane of theKanakas. I was grieved to find that my poor dog Bravo was dead. Hehad sickened and died suddenly, the very day after I sailed in theAlert. 

Sunday was again, as usual, our sailing day, and we got under weighwith a stiff breeze, which reminded us that it was the latter part ofthe autumn, and time to expect south-easters once more. We beat upagainst a strong head wind, under reefed top-sails, as far as San Juan, where we came to anchor nearly three miles from the shore, withslip-ropes on our cables, in the old south-easter style of last winter. On the passage up, we had an old sea captain on board, who had marriedand settled in California, and had not been on salt water for more thanfifteen years. He was astonished at the changes and improvements thathad been made in ships, and still more at the manner in which wecarried sail; for he was really a little frightened; and said thatwhile we had top-gallant sails on, he should have been under reefedtopsails. The working of the ship, and her progress to windward, seemedto delight him, for he said she went to windward as though she werekedging. 

Tuesday, Oct. 20th. Having got everything ready, we set the agentashore, who went up to the mission to hasten down the hides for thenext morning. This night we had the strictest orders to look out forsouth-easters; and the long, low clouds seemed rather threatening. Butthe night passed over without any trouble, and early the next morning, we hove out the long-boat and pinnace, lowered away the quarter-boats, and went ashore to bring off our hides. Here we were again, in thisromantic spot; a perpendicular hill, twice the height of the ship'smast-head, with a single circuitous path to the top, and long sandbeach at its base, with the swell of the whole Pacific breaking highupon it, and our hides ranged in piles on the overhanging summit. Thecaptain sent me, who was the only one of the crew that had ever beenthere before, to the top, to count the hides and pitch them down. There I stood again, as six months before, throwing off the hides, andwatching them, pitching and scaling, to the bottom, while the men, dwarfed by the distance, were walking to and fro on the beach, carryingthe hides, as they picked them up, to the distant boats, upon the topsof their heads. Two or three boat-loads were sent off, until, at last, all were thrown down, and the boats nearly loaded again; when we weredelayed by a dozen or twenty hides which had lodged in the recesses ofthe hill, and which we could not reach by any missiles, as the generalline of the side was exactly perpendicular, and these places were cavedin, and could not be seen or reached from the top. As hides are worthin Boston twelve and a half cents a pound, and the captain's commissionwas two per cent, he determined not to give them up; and sent on boardfor a pair of top-gallant studding-sail halyards, and requested someone of the crew to go to the top, and come down by the halyards. Theolder sailors said the boys, who were light and active, ought to go, while the boys thought that strength and experience were necessary. Seeing the dilemma, and feeling myself to be near the medium of theserequisites, I offered my services, and went up, with one man to tendthe rope, and prepared for the descent. 

We found a stake fastened strongly into the ground, and apparentlycapable of holding my weight, to which we made one end of the halyardswell fast, and taking the coil, threw it over the brink. The end, wesaw, just reached to a landing-place, from which the descent to thebeach was easy. Having nothing on but shirt, trowsers, and hat, thecommon sea-rig of warm weather, I had no stripping to do, and began mydescent, by taking hold of the rope in each hand, and slipping down, sometimes with hands and feet round the rope, and sometimes breastingoff with one hand and foot against the precipice, and holding on to therope with the other. In this way I descended until I came to a placewhich shelved in, and in which the hides were lodged. Keeping hold ofthe rope with one hand, I scrambled in, and by the other hand and feetsucceeded in dislodging all the hides, and continued on my way. Justbelow this place, the precipice projected again, and going over theprojection, I could see nothing below me but the sea and the rocks uponwhich it broke, and a few gulls flying in mid-air. I got down insafety, pretty well covered with dirt; and for my pains was told, "Whata d--d fool you were to risk your life for a half a dozen hides!"

While we were carrying the hides to the boat, I perceived, what I hadbeen too busy to observe before, that heavy black clouds were rollingup from seaward, a strong swell heaving in, and every sign of asouth-easter. The captain hurried everything. The hides were pitchedinto the boats; and, with some difficulty, and by wading nearly up toour armpits, we got the boats through the surf, and began pullingaboard. Our gig's crew towed the pinnace astern of the gig, and thelaunch was towed by six men in the jolly-boat. The ship was lyingthree miles off, pitching at her anchor, and the farther we pulled, theheavier grew the swell. Our boat stood nearly up and down severaltimes; the pinnace parted her towline, and we expected every moment tosee the launch swamped. We at length got alongside, our boats halffull of water; and now came the greatest difficulty of all, --unloadingthe boats, in a heavy sea, which pitched them about so that it wasalmost impossible to stand in them; raising them sometimes even withthe rail, and again dropping them below the bends. With greatdifficulty, we got all the hides aboard and stowed under hatches, theyard and stay tackles hooked on, and the launch and pinnace hoisted, checked, and griped. The quarter-boats were then hoisted up, and webegan heaving in on the chain. Getting the anchor was no easy work insuch a sea, but as we were not coming back to this port, the captaindetermined not to slip. The ship's head pitched into the sea, and thewater rushed through the hawse-holes, and the chain surged so as almostto unship the barrel of the windlass. "Hove short, sir!" said themate. "Aye, aye! Weather-bit your chain and loose the topsails! Makesail on her, men--with a will!" A few moments served to loose thetopsails, which were furled with reefs, to sheet them home, and hoistthem up. "Bear a hand!" was the order of the day; and every one sawthe necessity of it, for the gale was already upon us. The ship brokeout her own anchor, which we catted and fished, after a fashion, andstood off from the lee-shore against a heavy head sea, under reefedtopsails, fore-topmast staysail and spanker. The fore course was givento her, which helped her a little; but as she hardly held her ownagainst the sea which was settling her leeward--"Board the main tack!"shouted the captain; when the tack was carried forward and taken to thewindlass, and all hands called to the handspikes. The great sailbellied out horizontally as though it would lift up the main stay; theblocks rattled and flew about; but the force of machinery was too muchfor her. "Heave ho! Heave and pawl! Yo, heave, hearty, ho!" and, intime with the song, by the force of twenty strong arms, the windlasscame slowly round, pawl after pawl, and the weather clew of the sailwas brought down to the waterways. The starboard watch hauled aft thesheet, and the ship tore through the water like a mad horse, quiveringand shaking at every joint, and dashing from its head the foam, whichflew off at every blow, yards and yards to leeward. A half hour ofsuch sailing served our turn, when the clews of the sail were hauledup, the sail furled, and the ship, eased of her press, went morequietly on her way. Soon after, the foresail was reefed, and wemizen-top men were sent up to take another reef in the mizen topsail. This was the first time I had taken a weather earing, and I felt not alittle proud to sit, astride of the weather yard-arm, pass the earing, and sing out "Haul out to leeward!" From this time until we got toBoston, the mate never suffered any one but our own gang to go upon themizen topsail yard, either for reefing or furling, and the youngEnglish lad and myself generally took the earings between us. 

Having cleared the point and got well out to sea, we squared away theyards, made more sail, and stood on, nearly before the wind, for SanPedro. It blew strong, with some rain, nearly all night, but fell calmtoward morning, and the gale having gone over, we came-to, --

Thursday, Oct. 22d, at San Pedro, in the old south-easter berth, aleague from shore, with a slip-rope on the cable, reefs in thetopsails, and rope-yarns for gaskets. Here we lay ten days, with theusual boating, hide-carrying, rolling of cargo up the steep hill, walking barefooted over stones, and getting drenched in salt water. 

The third day after our arrival, the Rosa came in from San Juan, whereshe went the day after the south-easter. Her crew said it was assmooth as a mill-pond, after the gale, and she took off nearly athousand hides, which had been brought down for us, and which we lostin consequence of the south-easter. This mortified us; not only thatan Italian ship should have got to windward of us in the trade, butbecause every thousand hides went toward completing the forty thousandwhich we were to collect before we could say good-by to California. 

While lying here, we shipped one new hand, an Englishman, of about twoor three and twenty, who was quite an acquisition, as he proved to be agood sailor, could sing tolerably, and, what was of more importance tome, had a good education, and a somewhat remarkable history. He calledhimself George P. Marsh; professed to have been at sea from a smallboy, and to have served his time in the smuggling trade between Germanyand the coasts of France and England. Thus he accounted for hisknowledge of the French language, which he spoke and read as well as hedid English; but his cutter education would not account for hisEnglish, which was far too good to have been learned in a smuggler; forhe wrote an uncommonly handsome hand, spoke with great correctness, andfrequently, when in private talk with me, quoted from books, and showeda knowledge of the customs of society, and particularly of theformalities of the various English courts of law, and of Parliament, which surprised me. Still, he would give no other account of himselfthan that he was educated in a smuggler. A man whom we afterwards fellin with, who had been a shipmate of George's a few years before, saidthat he heard at the boarding-house from which they shipped, thatGeorge had been at college, (probably a naval one, as he knew no Latinor Greek, ) where he learned French and mathematics. He was by no meansthe man by nature that Harris was. Harris had made everything of hismind and character in spite of obstacles; while this man had evidentlybeen born in a different rank, and educated early in life accordingly, but had been a vagabond, and done nothing for himself since. What hadbeen given to him by others, was all that made him to differ from thoseabout him; while Harris had made himself what he was. Neither hadGeorge the character, strength of mind, acuteness, or memory of Harris;yet there was about him the remains of a pretty good education, whichenabled him to talk perhaps beyond his brains, and a high spirit andsense of honor, which years of a dog's life had not broken. After hehad been a little while on board, we learned from him his remarkablehistory, for the last two years, which we afterwards heard confirmed insuch a manner, as put the truth of it beyond a doubt. 

He sailed from New York in the year 1833, if I mistake not, before themast, in the brig Lascar, for Canton. She was sold in the East Indies, and he shipped at Manilla, in a small schooner, bound on a tradingvoyage among the Ladrone and Pelew Islands. On one of the latterislands, their schooner was wrecked on a reef, and they were attackedby the natives, and, after a desperate resistance, in which all theirnumber except the captain, George, and a boy, were killed or drowned, they surrendered, and were carried bound, in a canoe, to a neighboringisland. In about a month after this, an opportunity occurred by whichone of their number might get away. I have forgotten thecircumstances, but only one could go, and they yielded to the captain, upon his promising to send them aid if he escaped. He was successfulin his attempt; got on board an American vessel, went back to Manilla, and thence to America, without making any effort for their rescue, orindeed, as George afterwards discovered, without even mentioning theircase to any one in Manilla. The boy that was with George died, and hebeing alone, and there being no chance for his escape, the natives soontreated him with kindness, and even with attention. They painted him, tattooed his body, (for he would never consent to be marked in the faceor hands, ) gave him two or three wives; and, in fact, made quite a petof him. In this way, he lived for thirteen months, in a fine climate, with a plenty to eat, half naked, and nothing to do. He soon, however, became tired, and went round the island, on different pretences, tolook out for a sail. One day, he was out fishing in a small canoe withanother man, when he saw a large sail to the windward, about a leagueand a half off, passing abreast of the island and standing westward. With some difficulty, he persuaded the islander to go off with him tothe ship, promising to return with a good supply of rum and tobacco. These articles, which the islanders had got a taste of from Americantraders, were too strong a temptation for the fellow, and he consented. They paddled off in the track of the ship, and lay-to until she camedown to them. George stepped on board the ship, nearly naked, paintedfrom head to foot, and in no way distinguishable from his companionuntil he began to speak. Upon this, the people on board were not alittle astonished; and, having learned his story, the captain had himwashed and clothed, and sending away the poor astonished native with aknife or two and some tobacco and calico, took George with him on thevoyage. This was the ship Cabot, of New York, Captain Low. She wasbound to Manilla, from across the Pacific, and George did seaman's dutyin her until her arrival in Manilla, when he left her, and shipped in abrig bound to the Sandwich Islands. From Oahu, he came, in the Britishbrig Clementine, to Monterey, as second officer, where, having somedifficulty with the captain, he left her, and coming down the coast, joined us at San Pedro. Nearly six months after this, among somepapers we received by an arrival from Boston, we found a letter fromCaptain Low, of the Cabot, published immediately upon his arrival atNew York, and giving all the particulars just as we had them fromGeorge. The letter was published for the information of the friends ofGeorge, and Captain Low added, that he left him at Manilia to go toOahu, and he had heard nothing of him since. 

George had an interesting journal of his adventures in the PelewIslands, which he had written out at length, in a handsome hand, and incorrect English. 

CHAPTER XXV

RUMORS OF WAR--A SPOUTER--SLIPPING FOR A SOUTH-EASTER--A GALE

Sunday, November 1st. Sailed this day, (Sunday again, ) for SantaBarbara, where we arrived on the 5th. Coming round St. Buenaventura, and nearing the anchorage, we saw two vessels in port, a largefull-rigged, and a small hermaphrodite brig. The former, the crew saidmust be the Pilgrim; but I had been too long in the Pilgrim to bemistaken in her, and I was right in differing from them; for, uponnearer approach, her long, low shear, sharp bows, and raking masts, told quite another story. "Man-of-war brig, " said some of them;"Baltimore clipper, " said others; the Ayacucho, thought I; and soon thebroad folds of the beautiful banner of St. George, --white field withblood-red border and cross, --were displayed from her peak. A fewminutes put it beyond a doubt, and we were lying by the side of theAyacucho, which had sailed from San Diego about nine months before, while we were lying there in the Pilgrim. She had since been toValparaiso, Callao, and the Sandwich Islands, and had just come uponthe coast. Her boat came on board, bringing Captain Wilson; and inhalf an hour the news was all over the ship that there was a warbetween the United States and France. Exaggerated accounts reached theforecastle. Battles had been fought, a large French fleet was in thePacific, etc. , etc. ; and one of the boat's crew of the Ayacucho saidthat when they left Callao, a large French frigate and the Americanfrigate Brandywine, which were lying there, were going outside to havea battle, and that the English frigate Blonde was to be umpire, and seefair play. Here was important news for us. Alone, on an unprotectedcoast, without an American man-of-war within some thousands of miles, and the prospect of a voyage home through the whole length of thePacific and Atlantic oceans! A French prison seemed a much moreprobable place of destination than the good port of Boston. However, we were too salt to believe every yarn that comes into the forecastle, and waited to hear the truth of the matter from higher authority. Bymeans of a supercargo's clerk, I got the account of the matter, whichwas, that the governments had had difficulty about the payment of adebt; that war had been threatened and prepared for, but not actuallydeclared, although it was pretty generally anticipated. This was notquite so bad, yet was no small cause of anxiety. But we cared verylittle about the matter ourselves. "Happy go lucky" with Jack! We didnot believe that a French prison would be much worse than"hide-droghing" on the coast of California; and no one who has not beenon a long, dull voyage, shut up in one ship, can conceive of the effectof monotony upon one's thoughts and wishes. The prospect of a changeis like a green spot in a desert, and the remotest probability of greatevents and exciting scenes gives a feeling of delight, and sets life inmotion, so as to give a pleasure, which any one not in the same statewould be entirely unable to account for. In fact, a more jovial nightwe had not passed in the forecastle for months. Every one seemed inunaccountably high spirits. An undefined anticipation of radicalchanges, of new scenes, and great doings, seemed to have possessedevery one, and the common drudgery of the vessel appeared contemptible. Here was a new vein opened; a grand theme of conversation, and a topicfor all sorts of discussions. National feeling was wrought up. Jokeswere cracked upon the only Frenchman in the ship, and comparisons madebetween "old horse" and "soup meagre, " etc. , etc. 

We remained in uncertainty as to this war for more than two months, when an arrival from the Sandwich Islands brought us the news of anamicable arrangement of the difficulties. 

The other vessel which we found in port was the hermaphrodite brigAvon, from the Sandwich Islands. She was fitted up in handsome style;fired a gun and ran her ensign up and down at sunrise and sunset; had aband of four or five pieces of music on board, and appeared rather likea pleasure yacht than a trader; yet, in connection with the Loriotte, Clementine, Bolivar, Convoy, and other small vessels, belonging tosundry Americans at Oahu, she carried on a great trade--legal andillegal--in otter skins, silks, teas, specie, etc. 

The second day after our arrival, a full-rigged brig came round thepoint from the northward, sailed leisurely through the bay, and stoodoff again for the south-east, in the direction of the large island ofCatalina. The next day the Avon got under weigh, and stood in the samedirection, bound for San Pedro. This might do for marines andCalifornians, but we knew the ropes too well. The brig was never againseen on the coast, and the Avon arrived at San Pedro in about a week, with a full cargo of Canton and American goods. 

This was one of the means of escaping the heavy duties the Mexicans layupon all imports. A vessel comes on the coast, enters a moderate cargoat Monterey, which is the only custom-house, and commences trading. Ina month or more, having sold a large part of her cargo, she stretchesover to Catalina, or other of the large uninhabited islands which lieoff the coast, in a trip from port to port, and supplies herself withchoice goods from a vessel from Oahu, which has been lying off and onthe islands, waiting for her. Two days after the sailing of the Avon, the Loriotte came in from the leeward, and without doubt had also asnatch at the brig's cargo. 

Tuesday, Nov. 10th. Going ashore, as usual, in the gig, just beforesundown, to bring off the captain, we found, upon taking in the captainand pulling off again, that our ship, which lay the farthest out, hadrun up her ensign. This meant "Sail ho!" of course, but as we werewithin the point we could see nothing. "Give way, boys! Give way! Layout on your oars, and long stroke!" said the captain; and stretching tothe whole length of our arms, bending back again, so that our backstouched the thwarts, we sent her through the water like a rocket. Afew minutes of such pulling opened the islands, one after another, inrange of the point, and gave us a view of the Canal, where was a ship, under top-gallant sails, standing in, with a light breeze, for theanchorage. Putting the boat's head in the direction of the ship, thecaptain told us to lay out again; and we needed no spurring, for theprospect of boarding a new ship, perhaps from home, hearing the newsand having something to tell of when we got back, was excitement enoughfor us, and we gave way with a will. Captain Nye, of the Loriotte, whohad been an old whaleman, was in the stern-sheets, and fell mightilyinto the spirit of it. "Bend your backs and break your oars!" said he. "Lay me on, Captain Bunker!" "There she flukes!" and otherexclamations, peculiar to whalemen. In the meantime, it fell flatcalm, and being within a couple of miles of the ship, we expected toboard her in a few moments, when a sudden breeze sprung up, dead aheadfor the ship, and she braced up and stood off toward the islands, sharpon the larboard tack, making good way through the water. This, ofcourse, brought us up, and we had only to "ease larboard oars; pullround starboard!" and go aboard the Alert, with something very like aflea in the ear. There was a light land-breeze all night, and the shipdid not come to anchor until the next morning. As soon as her anchorwas down, we went aboard, and found her to be the whaleship, Wilmingtonand Liverpool Packet, of New Bedford, last from the "off-shore ground, "with nineteen hundred barrels of oil. A "spouter" we knew her to be assoon as we saw her, by her cranes and boats, and by her stumptop-gallant masts, and a certain slovenly look to the sails, rigging, spars and hull; and when we got on board, we found everything tocorrespond, --spouter fashion. She had a false deck, which was roughand oily, and cut up in every direction by the chimes of oil casks; herrigging was slack and turning white; no paint on the spars or blocks;clumsy seizings and straps without covers, and homeward-bound splicesin every direction. Her crew, too, were not in much better order. Hercaptain was a slab-sided, shamble-legged Quaker, in a suit of brown, with a broad-brimmed hat, and sneaking about decks, like a sheep, withhis head down; and the men looked more like fishermen and farmers thanthey did like sailors. 

Though it was by no means cold weather, (we having on only our redshirts and duck trowsers, ) they all had on woollen trowsers--not blueand shipshape--but of all colors--brown, drab, grey, aye, and green, with suspenders over their shoulders, and pockets to put their handsin. This, added to guernsey frocks, striped comforters about the neck, thick cowhide boots, woollen caps, and a strong, oily smell, and adecidedly green look, will complete the description. Eight or ten wereon the fore-topsail yard, and as many more in the main, furling thetopsails, while eight or ten were hanging about the forecastle, doingnothing. This was a strange sight for a vessel coming to anchor; so wewent up to them, to see what was the matter. One of them, a stout, hearty-looking fellow, held out his leg and said he had the scurvy;another had cut his hand; and others had got nearly well, but said thatthere were plenty aloft to furl the sails, so they were sogering on theforecastle. There was only one "splicer" on board, a fine-looking oldtar, who was in the bunt of the fore-topsail. He was probably the onlysailor in the ship, before the mast. The mates, of course, and theboat-steerers, and also two or three of the crew, had been to seabefore, but only whaling voyages; and the greater part of the crew wereraw hands, just from the bush, as green as cabbages, and had not yetgot the hay-seed out of their heads. The mizen topsail hung in thebunt-lines until everything was furled forward. Thus a crew of thirtymen were half an hour in doing what would have been done in the Alertwith eighteen hands to go aloft, in fifteen or twenty minutes. 

We found they had been at sea six or eight months, and had no news totell us; so we left them, and promised to get liberty to come on boardin the evening, for some curiosities, etc. Accordingly, as soon as wewere knocked off in the evening and had got supper, we obtained leave, took a boat, and went aboard and spent an hour or two. They gave uspieces of whalebone, and the teeth and other parts of curious seaanimals, and we exchanged books with them--a practice very common amongships in foreign ports, by which you get rid of the books you have readand re-read, and a supply of new ones in their stead, and Jack is notvery nice as to their comparative value. 

Thursday, Nov. 12th. This day was quite cool in the early part, andthere were black clouds about; but as it was often so in the morning, nothing was apprehended, and all the captains went ashore together, tospend the day. Towards noon, the clouds hung heavily over themountains, coming half way down the hills that encircle the town ofSanta Barbara, and a heavy swell rolled in from the south-east. Themate immediately ordered the gig's crew away, and at the same time, wesaw boats pulling ashore from the other vessels. Here was a grandchance for a rowing match, and every one did his best. We passed theboats of the Ayacucho and Loriotte, but could gain nothing upon, andindeed, hardly hold our own with, the long, six-oared boat of thewhale-ship. They reached the breakers before us; but here we had theadvantage of them, for, not being used to the surf, they were obligedto wait to see us beach our boat, just as, in the same place, nearly ayear before, we, in the Pilgrim, were glad to be taught by a boat'screw of Kanakas. 

We had hardly got the boats beached, and their heads out, before ourold friend, Bill Jackson, the handsome English sailor, who steered theLoriotte's boat, called out that the brig was adrift; and, sure enough, she was dragging her anchors, and drifting down into the bight of thebay. Without waiting for the captain, (for there was no one on boardbut the mate and steward, ) he sprung into the boat, called the Kanakastogether, and tried to put off. But the Kanakas, though capitalwater-dogs, were frightened by their vessel's being adrift, and by theemergency of the case, and seemed to lose their faculties. Twice, their boat filled, and came broadside upon the beach. Jackson swore atthem for a parcel of savages, and promised to flog every one of them. This made the matter no better; when we came forward, told the Kanakasto take their seats in the boat, and, going two on each side, walkedout with her till it was up to our shoulders, and gave them a shove, when, giving way with their oars, they got her safely into the long, regular swell. In the mean time, boats had put off from our ships andthe whaler, and coming all on board the brig together, they let go theother anchor, paid out chain, braced the yards to the wind, and broughtthe vessel up. 

In a few minutes, the captains came hurrying down, on the run; andthere was no time to be lost, for the gale promised to be a severe one, and the surf was breaking upon the beach, three deep, higher and higherevery instant. The Ayacucho's boat, pulled by four Kanakas, put offfirst, and as they had no rudder or steering oar, would probably neverhave got off, had we not waded out with them, as far as the surf wouldpermit. The next that made the attempt was the whale-boat, for we, being the most experienced "beach-combers, " needed no help, and staidtill the last. Whalemen make the best boats' crews in the world for along pull, but this landing was new to them, and notwithstanding theexamples they had had, they slued round and were hove up--boat, oars, and men--altogether, high and dry upon the sand. The second time, theyfilled, and had to turn their boat over, and set her off again. Wecould be of no help to them, for they were so many as to be in oneanother's way, without the addition of our numbers. The third time, they got off, though not without shipping a sea which drenched themall, and half filled their boat, keeping them baling, until theyreached their ship. We now got ready to go off, putting the boat'shead out; English Ben and I, who were the largest, standing on eachside of the bows, to keep her "head on" to the sea, two more shippingand manning the two after oars, and the captain taking the steeringoar. Two or three Spaniards, who stood upon the beach looking at us, wrapped their cloaks about them, shook their heads, and muttered"Caramba!" They had no taste for such doings; in fact, the hydrophobiais a national malady, and shows itself in their persons as well astheir actions. 

Watching for a "smooth chance, " we determined to show the other boatsthe way it should be done; and, as soon as ours floated, ran out withher, keeping her head on, with all our strength, and the help of thecaptain's oar, and the two after oarsmen giving way regularly andstrongly, until our feet were off the ground, we tumbled into the bows, keeping perfectly still, from fear of hindering the others. For sometime it was doubtful how it would go. The boat stood nearly up anddown in the water, and the sea, rolling from under her, let her fallupon the water with a force which seemed almost to stave her bottom in. By quietly sliding two oars forward, along the thwarts, withoutimpeding the rowers, we shipped two bow oars, and thus, by the help offour oars and the captain's strong arm, we got safely off, though weshipped several seas, which left us half full of water. We pulledalongside of the Loriotte, put her skipper on board, and found hermaking preparations for slipping, and then pulled aboard our own ship. Here Mr. Brown, always "on hand, " had got everything ready, so that wehad only to hook on the gig and hoist it up, when the order was givento loose the sails. While we were on the yards, we saw the Loriotteunder weigh, and before our yards were mast-headed, the Ayacucho hadspread her wings, and, with yards braced sharp up, was standing athwartour hawse. There is no prettier sight in the world than a full-rigged, clipper-built brig, sailing sharp on the wind. In a moment, ourslip-rope was gone, the head-yards filled away, and we were off. Nextcame the whaler; and in a half an hour from the time when four vesselswere lying quietly at anchor, without a rag out, or a sign of motion, the bay was deserted, and four white clouds were standing off to sea. Being sure of clearing the point, we stood off with our yards a littlebraced in, while the Ayacucho went off with a taught bowline, whichbrought her to windward of us. During all this day, and the greaterpart of the night, we had the usual south-easter entertainment, a galeof wind, variegated and finally topped off with a drenching rain ofthree or four hours. At daybreak, the clouds thinned off and rolledaway, and the sun came up clear. The wind, instead of coming out fromthe northward, as is usual, blew steadily and freshly from theanchoring-ground. This was bad for us, for, being "flying light, " withlittle more than ballast trim, we were in no condition for showing offon a taught bowline, and had depended upon a fair wind, with which, bythe help of our light sails and studding-sails, we meant to have beenthe first at the anchoring-ground; but the Ayacucho was a good leagueto windward of us, and was standing in, in fine style. The whaler, however, was as far to leeward of us, and the Loriotte was nearly outof sight, among the islands, up the Canal. By hauling every brace andbowline, and clapping watch-tackles upon all the sheets and halyards, we managed to hold our own, and drop the leeward vessels a little inevery tack. When we reached the anchoring-ground, the Ayacucho had gother anchor, furled her sails, squared her yards, and was lying asquietly as if nothing had happened for the last twenty-four hours. 

We had our usual good luck in getting our anchor without letting goanother, and were all snug, with our boats at the boom-ends, in half anhour. In about two hours more, the whaler came in, and made a clumsypiece of work in getting her anchor, being obliged to let go her bestbower, and finally, to get out a kedge and a hawser. They wereheave-ho-ing, stopping and unstopping, pawling, catting, and fishing, for three hours; and the sails hung from the yards all the afternoon, and were not furled until sundown. The Loriotte came in just afterdark, and let go her anchor, making no attempt to pick up the otheruntil the next day. 

This affair led to a great dispute as to the sailing of our ship andthe Ayacucho. Bets were made between the captains, and the crews tookit up in their own way; but as she was bound to leeward and we towindward, and merchant captains cannot deviate, a trial never tookplace; and perhaps it was well for us that it did not, for the Ayacuchohad been eight years in the Pacific, in every part of it--Valparaiso, Sandwich Islands, Canton, California, and all, and was called thefastest merchantman that traded in the Pacific, unless it was the brigJohn Gilpin, and perhaps the ship Ann McKim of Baltimore. 

Saturday, Nov. 14th. This day we got under weigh, with the agent andseveral Spaniards of note, as passengers, bound up to Monterey. We wentashore in the gig to bring them off with their baggage, and found themwaiting on the beach, and a little afraid about going off, as the surfwas running very high. This was nuts to us; for we liked to have aSpaniard wet with salt water; and then the agent was very much dislikedby the crew, one and all; and we hoped, as there was no officer in theboat, to have a chance to duck them; for we knew that they were such"marines" that they would not know whether it was our fault or not. Accordingly, we kept the boat so far from shore as to oblige them towet their feet in getting into her; and then waited for a good highcomber, and letting the head slue a little round, sent the whole forceof the sea into the stern-sheets, drenching them from head to feet. TheSpaniards sprang out of the boat, swore, and shook themselves andprotested against trying it again; and it was with the greatestdifficulty that the agent could prevail upon them to make anotherattempt. The next time we took care, and went off easily enough, andpulled aboard. The crew came to the side to hoist in their baggage, and we gave them the wink, and they heartily enjoyed the half-drownedlooks of the company. 

Everything being now ready, and the passengers aboard, we ran up theensign and broad pennant, (for there was no man-of-war, and we were thelargest vessel on the coast, ) and the other vessels ran up theirensigns. Having hove short, cast off the gaskets, and made the bunt ofeach sail fast by the jigger, with a man on each yard; at the word, thewhole canvas of the ship was loosed, and with the greatest rapiditypossible, everything was sheeted home and hoisted up, the anchortripped and catheaded, and the ship under headway. We were determinedto show the "spouter" how things could be done in a smart ship, with agood crew, though not more than half their number. The royal yardswere all crossed at once, and royals and skysails set, and, as we hadthe wind free, the booms were run out, and every one was aloft, activeas cats, laying out on the yards and booms, reeving the studding-sailgear; and sail after sail the captain piled upon her, until she wascovered with canvas, her sails looking like a great white cloud restingupon a black speck. Before we doubled the point, we were going at adashing rate, and leaving the shipping far astern. We had a finebreeze to take us through the Canal, as they call this bay of fortymiles long by ten wide. The breeze died away at night, and we werebecalmed all day on Sunday, about half way between Santa Barbara andPoint Conception. Sunday night we had a light, fair wind, which set usup again; and having a fine sea-breeze on the first part of Monday, wehad the prospect of passing, without any trouble, PointConception, --the Cape Horn of California, where it begins to blow thefirst of January, and blows all the year round. Toward the latter partof the afternoon, however, the regular northwest wind, as usual, setin, which brought in our studding-sails, and gave us the chance ofbeating round the Point, which we were now just abreast of, and whichstretched off into the Pacific, high, rocky and barren, forming thecentral point of the coast for hundreds of miles north and south. Acap-full of wind will be a bag-full here, and before night our royalswere furled, and the ship was laboring hard under her top-gallantsails. At eight bells our watch went below, leaving her with as muchsail as she could stagger under, the water flying over the forecastleat every plunge. It was evidently blowing harder, but then there wasnot a cloud in the sky, and the sun had gone down bright. 

We had been below but a short time, before we had the usualpremonitions of a coming gale: seas washing over the whole forward partof the vessel, and her bows beating against them with a force and soundlike the driving of piles. The watch, too, seemed very busy tramplingabout decks, and singing out at the ropes. A sailor can always tell, by the sound, what sail is coming in, and, in a short time, we heardthe top-gallant sails come in, one after another, and then the flyingjib. This seemed to ease her a good deal, and we were fast going offto the land of Nod, when--bang, bang, bang--on the scuttle, and "Allhands, reef topsails, ahoy!" started us out of our berths; and, it notbeing very cold weather, we had nothing extra to put on, and were soonon deck. I shall never forget the fineness of the sight. It was aclear, and rather a chilly night; the stars were twinkling with anintense brightness, and as far as the eye could reach, there was not acloud to be seen. The horizon met the sea in a defined line. Apainter could not have painted so clear a sky. There was not a speckupon it. Yet it was blowing great guns from the north-west. When youcan see a cloud to windward, you feel that there is a place for thewind to come from; but here it seemed to come from nowhere. No personcould have told, from the heavens, by their eyesight alone, that it wasnot a still summer's night. One reef after another, we took in thetopsails, and before we could get them hoisted up, we heard a soundlike a short, quick rattling of thunder, and the jib was blown to atomsout of the bolt-rope. We got the topsails set, and the fragments ofthe jib stowed away, and the fore-topmast staysail set in its place, when the great mainsail gaped open, and the sail ripped from head tofoot. "Lay up on that main-yard and furl the sail, before it blows totatters!" shouted the captain; and in a moment, we were up, gatheringthe remains of it upon the yard. We got it wrapped, round the yard, and passed gaskets over it as snugly as possible, and were just on deckagain, when, with another loud rent, which was heard throughout theship, the fore-topsail, which had been double-reefed, split in two, athwartships, just below the reefband, from earing to earing. Hereagain it was down yard, haul out reef-tackles, and lay out upon theyard for reefing. By hauling the reef-tackles chock-a-block, we tookthe strain from the other earings, and passing the close-reef earing, and knotting the points carefully, we succeeded in setting the sail, close-reefed. 

We had but just got the rigging coiled up, and were waiting to hear "gobelow the watch!" when the main royal worked loose from the gaskets, and blew directly out to leeward, flapping, and shaking the mast like awand. Here was a job for somebody. The royal must come in or be cutadrift, or the mast would be snapped short off. All the light hands inthe starboard watch were sent up, one after another, but they could donothing with it. At length, John, the tall Frenchman, the head of thestarboard watch, (and a better sailor never stepped upon a deck, )sprang aloft, and, by the help of his long arms and legs, succeeded, after a hard struggle, --the sail blowing over the yard-arm to leeward, and the skysail blowing directly over his head--in smothering it, andfrapping it with long pieces of sinnet. He came very near being blownor shaken from the yard, several times, but he was a true sailor, everyfinger a fish-hook. Having made the sail snug, he prepared to send theyard down, which was a long and difficult job; for, frequently, he wasobliged to stop and hold on with all his might, for several minutes, the ship pitching so as to make it impossible to do anything else atthat height. The yard at length came down safe, and after it, the foreand mizen royal-yards were sent down. All hands were then sent aloft, and for an hour or two we were hard at work, making the booms wellfast; unreeving the studding-sail and royal and skysail gear; gettingrolling-ropes on the yards; setting up the weather breast-backstays;and making other preparations for a storm. It was a fine night for agale; just cool and bracing enough for quick work, without being cold, and as bright as day. It was sport to have a gale in such weather asthis. Yet it blew like a hurricane. The wind seemed to come with aspite, an edge to it, which threatened to scrape us off the yards. Themere force of the wind was greater than I had ever seen it before; butdarkness, cold, and wet are the worst parts of a storm to a sailor. 

Having got on deck again, we looked round to see what time of night itwas, and whose watch. In a few minutes the man at the wheel struckfour bells, and we found that the other watch was out, and our own halfout. Accordingly, the starboard watch went below, and left the ship tous for a couple of hours, yet with orders to stand by for a call. 

Hardly had they got below, before away went the fore-topmast staysail, blown to ribbons. This was a small sail, which we could manage in thewatch, so that we were not obliged to call up the other watch. We laidout upon the bowsprit, where we were under water half the time, andtook in the fragments of the sail, and as she must have some head sailon her, prepared to bend another staysail. We got the new one out, into the nettings; seized on the tack, sheets, and halyards, and thehanks; manned the halyards, cut adrift the frapping lines, and hoistedaway; but before it was half way up the stay, it was blown all topieces. When we belayed the halyards, there was nothing left but thebolt-rope. Now large eyes began to show themselves in the foresail, and knowing that it must soon go, the mate ordered us upon the yard tofurl it. Being unwilling to call up the watch who had been on deck allnight, he roused out the carpenter, sailmaker, cook, steward, and otheridlers, and, with their help, we manned the foreyard, and after nearlyhalf an hour's struggle, mastered the sail, and got it well furledround the yard. The force of the wind had never been greater than atthis moment. In going up the rigging, it seemed absolutely to pin usdown to the shrouds; and on the yard, there was no such thing asturning a face to windward. Yet here was no driving sleet, anddarkness, and wet, and cold, as off Cape Horn; and instead of a stiffoil-cloth suit, south-wester caps, and thick boots, we had on hats, round jackets, duck trowsers, light shoes, and everything light andeasy. All these things make a great difference to a sailor. When wegot on deck, the man at the wheel struck eight bells, (four o'clock inthe morning, ) and "All starbowlines, ahoy!" brought the other watch up. But there was no going below for us. The gale was now at its height, "blowing like scissors and thumb-screws;" the captain was on deck; theship, which was light, rolling and pitching as though she would shakethe long sticks out of her; and the sail gaping open and splitting, inevery direction. The mizen topsail, which was a comparatively newsail, and close-reefed, split, from head to foot, in the bunt; thefore-topsail went, in one rent, from clew to earing, and was blowing totatters; one of the chain bobstays parted; the spritsail-yard sprung inthe slings; the martingale had slued away off to leeward; and, owing tothe long dry weather, the lee rigging hung in large bights, at everylurch. One of the main top-gallant shrouds had parted; and, to crownall, the galley had got adrift, and gone over to leeward, and theanchor on the lee bow had worked loose, and was thumping the side. Here was work enough for all hands for half a day. Our gang laid outon the mizen topsail yard, and after more than half an hour's hardwork, furled the sail, though it bellied out over our heads, and again, by a slant of the wind, blew in under the yard, with a fearful jerk, and almost threw us off from the foot-ropes. 

Double gaskets were passed round the yards, rolling tackles and othergear bowsed taught, and everything made as secure as could be. Comingdown, we found the rest of the crew just coming down the fore rigging, having furled the tattered topsail, or, rather, swathed it round theyard, which looked like a broken limb, bandaged. There was no sail nowon the ship but the spanker and the close-reefed main topsail, whichstill held good. But this was too much after sail; and order was givento furl the spanker. The brails were hauled up, and all the lighthands in the starboard watch sent out on the gaff to pass the gaskets;but they could do nothing with it. The second mate swore at them for aparcel of "sogers, " and sent up a couple of the best men; but theycould do no better, and the gaff was lowered down. All hands were nowemployed in setting up the lee rigging, fishing the spritsail-yard, lashing the galley, and getting tackles upon the martingale, to bowseit to windward. Being in the larboard watch, my duty was forward, toassist in setting up the martingale. Three of us were out on themartingale guys and back-ropes for more than half an hour, carryingout, hooking and unhooking the tackles, several times buried in theseas, until the mate ordered us in, from fear of our being washed off. The anchors were then to be taken up on the rail, which kept all handson the forecastle for an hour, though every now and then the seas brokeover it, washing the rigging off to leeward, filling the lee scuppersbreast high, and washing chock aft to the taffrail. 

Having got everything secure again, we were promising ourselves somebreakfast, for it was now nearly nine o'clock in the forenoon, when themain topsail showed evident signs of giving way. Some sail must bekept on the ship, and the captain ordered the fore and main spencergaffs to be lowered down, and the two spencers (which were storm sails, bran new, small, and made of the strongest canvas) to be got up andbent; leaving the main topsail to blow away, with a blessing on it, ifit would only last until we could set the spencers. These we bent onvery carefully, with strong robands and seizings, and making tacklesfast to the clews, bowsed them down to the water-ways. By this timethe main topsail was among the things that have been, and we went aloftto stow away the remnant of the last sail of all those which were onthe ship twenty-four hours before. The spencers were now the onlywhole sails on the ship, and, being strong and small, and near thedeck, presenting but little surface to the wind above the rail, promised to hold out well. Hove-to under these, and eased by having nosail above the tops, the ship rose and fell, and drifted off to leewardlike a line-of-battle ship. 

It was now eleven o'clock, and the watch was sent below to getbreakfast, and at eight bells (noon), as everything was snug, althoughthe gale had not in the least abated, the watch was set, and the otherwatch and idlers sent below. For three days and three nights, the galecontinued with unabated fury, and with singular regularity. There wasno lulls, and very little variation in its fierceness. Our ship, beinglight, rolled so as almost to send the fore yard-arm under water, anddrifted off bodily, to leeward. All this time there was not a cloud tobe seen in the sky, day or night;--no, not so large as a man's hand. Every morning the sun rose cloudless from the sea, and set again atnight, in the sea, in a flood of light. The stars, too, came out ofthe blue, one after another, night after night, unobscured, andtwinkled as clear as on a still frosty night at home, until the daycame upon them. All this time, the sea was rolling in immense surges, white with foam, as far as the eye could reach, on every side, for wewere now leagues and leagues from shore. 

The between-decks being empty, several of us slept there in hammocks, which are the best things in the world to sleep in during a storm; itnot being true of them, as it is of another kind of bed, "when the windblows, the cradle will rock;" for it is the ship that rocks, while theyalways hang vertically from the beams. During these seventy-two hourswe had nothing to do, but to turn in and out, four hours on deck, andfour below, eat, sleep, and keep watch. The watches were only varied bytaking the helm in turn, and now and then, by one of the sails, whichwere furled, blowing out of the gaskets, and getting adrift, which sentus up on the yards; and by getting tackles on different parts of therigging, which were slack. Once, the wheel-rope parted, which mighthave been fatal to us, had not the chief mate sprung instantly with arelieving tackle to windward, and kept the tiller up, till a new onecould be rove. On the morning of the twentieth, at daybreak, the galehad evidently done its worst, and had somewhat abated; so much so, thatall hands were called to bend new sails, although it was still blowingas hard as two common gales. One at a time, and with great difficultyand labor, the old sails were unbent and sent down by the bunt-lines, and three new topsails, made for the homeward passage round Cape Horn, and which had never been bent, were got up from the sailroom, and underthe care of the sailmaker, were fitted for bending, and sent up by thehalyards into the tops, and, with stops and frapping lines, were bentto the yards, close-reefed, sheeted home, and hoisted. These were doneone at a time, and with the greatest care and difficulty. Two sparecourses were then got up and bent in the same manner and furled, and astorm-jib, with the bonnet off, bent and furled to the boom. It wastwelve o'clock before we got through; and five hours of more exhaustinglabor I never experienced; and no one of that ship's crew, I willventure to say, will ever desire again to unbend and bend five largesails, in the teeth of a tremendous north-wester. Towards night, a fewclouds appeared in the horizon, and as the gale moderated, the usualappearance of driving clouds relieved the face of the sky. The fifthday after the commencement of the storm, we shook a reef out of eachtopsail, and set the reefed foresail, jib and spanker; but it was notuntil after eight days of reefed topsails that we had a whole sail onthe ship; and then it was quite soon enough, for the captain wasanxious to make up for leeway, the gale having blown us half thedistance to the Sandwich Islands. 

Inch by inch, as fast as the gale would permit, we made sail on theship, for the wind still continued a-head, and we had many days'sailing to get back to the longitude we were in when the storm took us. For eight days more we beat to windward under a stiff top-gallantbreeze, when the wind shifted and became variable. A lightsouth-easter, to which we could carry a reefed topmast studding-sail, did wonders for our dead reckoning. 

Friday, December 4th, after a passage of twenty days, we arrived at themouth of the bay of San Francisco. 

CHAPTER XXVI

SAN FRANCISCO--MONTEREY

Our place of destination had been Monterey, but as we were to thenorthward of it when the wind hauled a-head, we made a fair wind forSan Francisco. This large bay, which lies in latitude 37° 58', wasdiscovered by Sir Francis Drake, and by him represented to be (asindeed it is) a magnificent bay, containing several good harbors, greatdepth of water, and surrounded by a fertile and finely wooded country. About thirty miles from the mouth of the bay, and on the south-eastside, is a high point, upon which the presidio is built. Behind this, is the harbor in which trading vessels anchor, and near it, the missionof San Francisco, and a newly begun settlement, mostly of YankeeCalifornians, called Yerba Buena, which promises well. Here, atanchor, and the only vessel, was a brig under Russian colors, fromAsitka, in Russian America, which had come down to winter, and to takein a supply of tallow and grain, great quantities of which latterarticle are raised in the missions at the head of the bay. The secondday after our arrival, we went on board the brig, it being Sunday, as amatter of curiosity; and there was enough there to gratify it. Thoughno larger than the Pilgrim, she had five or six officers, and a crew ofbetween twenty and thirty; and such a stupid and greasy-looking set, Icertainly never saw before. Although it was quite comfortable weather, and we had nothing on but straw hats, shirts, and duck trowsers, andwere barefooted, they had, every man of them, double-soled boots, coming up to the knees, and well greased; thick woolen trowsers, frocks, waistcoats, pea-jackets, woolen caps, and everything in trueNova Zembla rig; and in the warmest days they made no change. Theclothing of one of these men would weigh nearly as much as that of halfour crew. They had brutish faces, looked like the antipodes ofsailors, and apparently dealt in nothing but grease. They lived upongrease; eat it, drank it, slept in the midst of it, and their clotheswere covered with it. To a Russian, grease is the greatest luxury. They looked with greedy eyes upon the tallow-bags as they were takeninto the vessel, and, no doubt, would have eaten one up whole, had notthe officer kept watch over it. The grease seemed actually comingthrough their pores, and out in their hair, and on their faces. Itseems as if it were this saturation which makes them stand cold andrain so well. If they were to go into a warm climate, they would alldie of the scurvy. 

The vessel was no better than the crew. Everything was in the oldestand most inconvenient fashion possible; running trusses on the yards, and large hawser cables, coiled all over the decks, and served andparcelled in all directions. The topmasts, top-gallant masts andstudding-sail booms were nearly black for want of scraping, and thedecks would have turned the stomach of a man-of-war's-man. The galleywas down in the forecastle; and there the crew lived, in the midst ofthe steam and grease of the cooking, in a place as hot as an oven, andas dirty as a pigsty. Five minutes in the forecastle was enough forus, and we were glad to get into the open air. We made some trade withthem, buying Indian curiosities, of which they had a great number; suchas bead-work, feathers of birds, fur moccasins, etc. I purchased alarge robe, made of the skins of some animals, dried and sewed nicelytogether, and covered all over on the outside with thick downyfeathers, taken from the breasts of various birds, and arranged withtheir different colors, so as to make a brilliant show. 

A few days after our arrival, the rainy season set in, and, for threeweeks, it rained almost every hour, without cessation. This was bad forour trade, for the collecting of hides is managed differently in thisport from what it is in any other on the coast. The mission of SanFrancisco near the anchorage, has no trade at all, but those of SanJosé, Santa Clara, and others, situated on large creeks or rivers whichrun into the bay, and distant between fifteen and forty miles from theanchorage, do a greater business in hides than any in California. Large boats, manned by Indians, and capable of carrying nearly athousand hides apiece, are attached to the missions, and sent down tothe vessels with hides, to bring away goods in return. Some of thecrews of the vessels are obliged to go and come in the boats, to lookout for the hides and goods. These are favorite expeditions with thesailors, in fine weather; but now to be gone three or four days, inopen boats, in constant rain, without any shelter, and with cold food, was hard service. Two of our men went up to Santa Clara in one of theseboats, and were gone three days, during all which time they had aconstant rain, and did not sleep a wink, but passed three long nights, walking fore and aft the boat, in the open air. When they got onboard, they were completely exhausted, and took a watch below of twelvehours. All the hides, too, that came down in the boats, were soakedwith water, and unfit to put below, so that we were obliged to tricethem up to dry, in the intervals of sunshine or wind, upon all parts ofthe vessel. We got up tricing-lines from the jib-boom-end to each armof the fore yard, and thence to the main and cross-jack yard-arms. Between the tops, too, and the mast-heads, from the fore to the mainswifters, and thence to the mizen rigging, and in all directionsathwartships, tricing-lines were run, and strung with hides. The headstays and guys, and the spritsail-yard, were lined, and, having stillmore, we got out the swinging booms, and strung them and the forwardand after guys, with hides. The rail, fore and aft, the windlass, capstan, the sides of the ship, and every vacant place on deck, werecovered with wet hides, on the least sign of an interval for drying. Our ship was nothing but a mass of hides, from the cat-harpins to thewater's edge, and from the jib-boom-end to the taffrail. 

One cold, rainy evening, about eight o'clock, I received orders to getready to start for San José at four the next morning, in one of theseIndian boats, with four days' provisions. I got my oil-cloth clothes, south-wester, and thick boots all ready, and turned into my hammockearly, determined to get some sleep in advance, as the boat was to bealongside before daybreak. I slept on till all hands were called inthe morning; for, fortunately for me, the Indians, intentionally, orfrom mistaking their orders, had gone off alone in the night, and werefar out of sight. Thus I escaped three or four days of veryuncomfortable service. 

Four of our men, a few days afterwards, went up in one of thequarter-boats to Santa Clara, to carry the agent, and remained out allnight in a drenching rain, in the small boat, where there was not roomfor them to turn round; the agent having gone up to the mission andleft the men to their fate, making no provision for theiraccommodation, and not even sending them anything to eat. After this, they had to pull thirty miles, and when they got on board, were sostiff that they could not come up the gangway ladder. This filled upthe measure of the agent's unpopularity, and never after this could heget anything done by any of the crew; and many a delay and vexation, and many a good ducking in the surf, did he get to pay up old scores, or "square the yards with the bloody quill-driver. "

Having collected nearly all the hides that were to be procured, webegan our preparations for taking in a supply of wood and water, forboth of which, San Francisco is the best place on the coast. A smallisland, situated about two leagues from the anchorage, called by us"Wood Island, " and by the Spaniards "Isle de los Angelos, " was coveredwith trees to the water's edge; and to this, two of our crew, who wereKennebec men, and could handle an axe like a plaything, were sent everymorning to cut wood, with two boys to pile it up for them. In about aweek, they had cut enough to last us a year, and the third mate, withmyself and three others, were sent over in a large, schooner-rigged, open launch, which we had hired of the mission, to take in the wood, and bring it to the ship. We left the ship about noon, but, owing to astrong head wind, and a tide, which here runs four or five knots, didnot get into the harbor, formed by two points of the island, where theboats lie, until sundown. No sooner had we come-to, than a strongsouth-easter, which had been threatening us all day, set in, with heavyrain and a chilly atmosphere. We were in rather a bad situation: anopen boat, a heavy rain, and a long night; for in winter, in thislatitude, it was dark nearly fifteen hours. Taking a small skiff whichwe had brought with us, we went ashore, but found no shelter, foreverything was open to the rain, and collecting a little wood, which wefound by lifting up the leaves and brush, and a few muscles, we putaboard again, and made the best preparations in our power for passingthe night. We unbent the mainsail, and formed an awning with it overthe after part of the boat, made a bed of wet logs of wood, and, withour jackets on, lay down, about six o'clock, to sleep. Finding the rainrunning down upon us, and our jackets getting wet through, and therough, knotty-logs, rather indifferent couches, we turned out; andtaking an iron pan which we brought with us, we wiped it out dry, putsome stones around it, cut the wet bark from some sticks, and strikinga light, made a small fire in the pan. Keeping some sticks near, todry, and covering the whole over with a roof of boards, we kept up asmall fire, by which we cooked our muscles, and eat them, rather for anoccupation than from hunger. Still, it was not ten o'clock, and thenight was long before us, when one of the party produced an old pack ofSpanish cards from his monkey-jacket pocket, which we hailed as a greatwindfall; and keeping a dim, flickering light by our fagots, we playedgame after game, till one or two o'clock, when, becoming really tired, we went to our logs again, one sitting up at a time, in turn, to keepwatch over the fire. Toward morning, the rain ceased, and the airbecame sensibly colder, so that we found sleep impossible, and sat up, watching for daybreak. No sooner was it light than we went ashore, andbegan our preparations for loading our vessel. We were not mistaken inthe coldness of the weather, for a white frost was on the ground, athing we had never seen before in California, and one or two littlepuddles of fresh water were skimmed over with a thin coat of ice. Inthis state of the weather and before sunrise, in the grey of themorning, we had to wade off, nearly up to our hips in water, to loadthe skiff with the wood by armsfull. The third mate remained on boardthe launch, two more men staid in the skiff, to load and manage it, andall the water-work, as usual, fell upon the two youngest of us; andthere we were, with frost on the ground, wading forward and back, fromthe beach to the boat, with armsfull of wood, barefooted, and ourtrowsers rolled up. When the skiff went off with her load, we couldonly keep our feet from freezing by racing up and down the beach on thehard sand, as fast as we could go. We were all day at this work, andtowards sundown, having loaded the vessel as deep as she would bear, wehove up our anchor, and made sail, beating out the bay. No sooner hadwe got into the large bay, than we found a strong tide setting us outto seaward, a thick fog which prevented our seeing the ship, and abreeze too light to set us against the tide; for we were as deep as asand-barge. By the utmost exertions, we saved ourselves from beingcarried out to sea, and were glad to reach the leewardmost point of theisland, where we came-to, and prepared to pass another night, moreuncomfortable than the first, for we were loaded up to the gunwale, andhad only a choice among logs and sticks for a resting-place. The nextmorning, we made sail at slack water, with a fair wind, and got onboard by eleven o'clock, when all hands were turned-to, to unload andstow away the wood, which took till night. 

Having now taken in all our wood, the next morning a water-party wasordered off with all the casks. From this we escaped, having had apretty good siege with the wooding. The water-party were gone threedays, during which time they narrowly escaped being carried out to sea, and passed one day on an island, where one of them shot a deer, greatnumbers of which overrun the islands and hills of San Francisco Bay. 

While not off, on these wood and water parties, or up the rivers to themissions, we had very easy times on board the ship. We were moored, stem and stern, within a cable's length of the shore, safe fromsouth-easters, and with very little boating to do; and as it rainednearly all the time, awnings were put over the hatchways, and all handssent down between decks, where we were at work, day after day, pickingoakum, until we got enough to caulk the ship all over, and to last thewhole voyage. Then we made a whole suit of gaskets for the voyagehome, a pair of wheel-ropes from strips of green hide, great quantitiesof spun-yarn, and everything else that could be made between decks. Itbeing now mid-winter and in high latitude, the nights were very long, so that we were not turned-to until seven in the morning, and wereobliged to knock off at five in the evening, when we got supper; whichgave us nearly three hours before eight bells, at which time the watchwas set. 

As we had now been about a year on the coast, it was time to think ofthe voyage home; and knowing that the last two or three months of ourstay would be very busy ones, and that we should never have so good anopportunity to work for ourselves as the present, we all employed ourevenings in making clothes for the passage home, and more especiallyfor Cape Horn. As soon as supper was over and the kids cleared away, and each one had taken his smoke, we seated ourselves on our chestsround the lamp, which swung from a beam, and each one went to work inhis own way, some making hats, others trowsers, others jackets, etc. , etc. ; and no one was idle. The boys who could not sew well enough tomake their own clothes, laid up grass into sinnet for the men, whosewed for them in return. Several of us clubbed together and bought alarge piece of twilled cotton, which we made into trowsers and jackets, and giving them several coats of linseed oil, laid them by for CapeHorn. I also sewed and covered a tarpaulin hat, thick and strongenough to sit down upon, and made myself a complete suit of flannelunder-clothing, for bad weather. Those who had no south-wester caps, made them, and several of the crew made themselves tarpaulin jacketsand trowsers, lined on the inside with flannel. Industry was the orderof the day, and every one did something for himself; for we knew thatas the season advanced, and we went further south, we should have noevenings to work in. 

Friday, December 25th. This day was Christmas; and as it rained allday long, and there were no hides to take in, and nothing especial todo, the captain gave us a holiday, (the first we had had since leavingBoston, ) and plum duff for dinner. The Russian brig, following the OldStyle, had celebrated their Christmas eleven days before; when they hada grand blow-out and (as our men said) drank, in the forecastle, abarrel of gin, ate up a bag of tallow, and made a soup of the skin. 

Sunday, December 27th. We had now finished all our business at thisport, and it being Sunday, we unmoored ship and got under weigh, firinga salute to the Russian brig, and another to the Presidio, which wereboth answered. The commandant of the Presidio, Don Gaudaloupe Villego, a young man, and the most popular, among the Americans and English, ofany man in California, was on board when we got under weigh. He spokeEnglish very well, and was suspected of being favorably inclined toforeigners. 

We sailed down this magnificent bay with a light wind, the tide, whichwas running out, carrying us at the rate of four or five knots. It wasa fine day; the first of entire sunshine we had had for more than amonth. We passed directly under the high cliff on which the Presidiois built, and stood into the middle of the bay, from whence we couldsee small bays, making up into the interior, on every side; large andbeautifully-wooded islands; and the mouths of several small rivers. IfCalifornia ever becomes a prosperous country, this bay will be thecentre of its prosperity. The abundance of wood and water, the extremefertility of its shores, the excellence of its climate, which is asnear to being perfect as any in the world, and its facilities fornavigation, affording the best anchoring-grounds in the whole westerncoast of America, all fit it for a place of great importance; and, indeed, it has attracted much attention, for the settlement of "YerbaBuena, " where we lay at anchor, made chiefly by Americans and English, and which bids fair to become the most important trading place on thecoast, at this time began to supply traders, Russian ships, andwhalers, with their stores of wheat and frijoles. 

The tide leaving us, we came to anchor near the mouth of the bay, undera high and beautifully sloping hill, upon which herds of hundreds andhundreds of red deer, and the stag, with his high branching antlers, were bounding about, looking at us for a moment, and then starting off, affrighted at the noises which we made for the purpose of seeing thevariety of their beautiful attitudes and motions. 

At midnight, the tide having turned, we hove up our anchor and stoodout of the bay, with a fine starry heaven above us, --the first we hadseen for weeks and weeks. Before the light northerly winds, which blowhere with the regularity of trades, we worked slowly along, and madePoint Año Nuevo, the northerly point of the Bay of Monterey, on Mondayafternoon. We spoke, going in, the brig Diana, of the SandwichIslands, from the North-west Coast, last from Asitka. She was off thepoint at the same time with us, but did not get in to theanchoring-ground until an hour or two after us. It was ten o'clock onTuesday morning when we came to anchor. The town looked just as it didwhen I saw it last, which was eleven months before, in the brigPilgrim. The pretty lawn on which it stands, as green as sun and raincould make it; the pine wood on the south; the small river on the northside; the houses, with their white plastered sides and red-tiled roofs, dotted about on the green; the low, white presidio, with its soiled, tri-colored flag flying, and the discordant din of drums and trumpetsfor the noon parade; all brought up the scene we had witnessed herewith so much pleasure nearly a year before, when coming from a longvoyage, and our unprepossessing reception at Santa Barbara. It seemedalmost like coming to a home. 

CHAPTER XXVII

THE SUNDAY WASH-UP--ON SHORE--A SET-TO--A GRANDEE--"SAIL HO!"--AFANDANGO

The only other vessel in port was the Russian government bark, fromAsitka, mounting eight guns, (four of which we found to be Quakers, )and having on board the ex-governor, who was going in her to Mazatlan, and thence overland to Vera Cruz. He offered to take letters, anddeliver them to the American consul at Vera Cruz, whence they could beeasily forwarded to the United States. We accordingly made up a packetof letters, almost every one writing, and dating them "January 1st, 1836. " The governor was true to his promise, and they all reachedBoston before the middle of March; the shortest communication ever yetmade across the country. 

The brig Pilgrim had been lying in Monterey through the latter part ofNovember, according to orders, waiting for us. Day after day, CaptainFaucon went up to the hill to look out for us, and at last, gave us up, thinking we must have gone down in the gale which we experienced offPoint Conception, and which had blown with great fury over the wholecoast, driving ashore several vessels in the snuggest ports. AnEnglish brig, which had put into San Francisco, lost both her anchors;the Rosa was driven upon a mud bank in San Diego; and the Pilgrim, withgreat difficulty, rode out the gale in Monterey, with three anchorsa-head. She sailed early in December for San Diego and intermedios. 

As we were to be here over Sunday, and Monterey was the best place togo ashore on the whole coast, and we had had no liberty-day for nearlythree months, every one was for going ashore. On Sunday morning, assoon as the decks were washed, and we had got breakfast, those who hadobtained liberty began to clean themselves, as it is called, to goashore. A bucket of fresh water apiece, a cake of soap, a large coarsetowel, and we went to work scrubbing one another, on the forecastle. Having gone through this, the next thing was to get into the head, --oneon each side--with a bucket apiece, and duck one another, by drawing upwater and heaving over each other, while we were stripped to a pair oftrowsers. Then came the rigging-up. The usual outfit of pumps, whitestockings, loose white duck trowsers, blue jackets, clean checkedshirts, black kerchiefs, hats well varnished, with a fathom of blackribbon over the left eye, a silk handkerchief flying from the outsidejacket pocket, and four or five dollars tied up in the back of theneckerchief, and we were "all right. " One of the quarter-boats pulledus ashore, and we steamed up to the town. I tried to find the church, in order to see the worship, but was told that there was no service, except a mass early in the morning; so we went about the town, visitingthe Americans and English, and the natives whom we had known when wewere here before. Toward noon we procured horses, and rode out to theCarmel mission, which is about a league from the town, where we gotsomething in the way of a dinner--beef, eggs, frijoles, tortillas, andsome middling wine--from the mayordomo, who, of course, refused to makeany charge, as it was the Lord's gift, yet received our present, as agratuity, with a low bow, a touch of the hat, and "Dios se lo pague!"

After this repast, we had a fine run, scouring the whole country on ourfleet horses, and came into town soon after sundown. Here we found ourcompanions who had refused to go to ride with us, thinking that asailor has no more business with a horse than a fish has with aballoon. They were moored, stem and stern, in a grog-shop, making agreat noise, with a crowd of Indians and hungry half-breeds about them, and with a fair prospect of being stripped and dirked, or left to passthe night in the calabozo. With a great deal of trouble, we managed toget them down to the boats, though not without many angry looks andinterferences from the Spaniards, who had marked them out for theirprey. The Diana's crew, --a set of worthless outcasts, who had beenpicked up at the islands from the refuse of whale-ships, --were all asdrunk as beasts, and had a set-to, on the beach, with their captain, who was in no better state than themselves. They swore they would notgo aboard, and went back to the town, were stripped and beaten, andlodged in the calabozo, until the next day, when the captain boughtthem out. Our forecastle, as usual after a liberty-day, was a scene oftumult all night long, from the drunken ones. They had just got tosleep toward morning, when they were turned up with the rest, and keptat work all day in the water, carrying hides, their heads aching sothat they could hardly stand. This is sailor's pleasure. 

Nothing worthy of remark happened while we were here, except a littleboxing-match on board our own ship, which gave us something to talkabout. A broad-backed, big-headed Cape Cod boy, about sixteen yearsold, had been playing the bully, for the whole voyage, over a slender, delicate-looking boy, from one of the Boston schools, and over whom hehad much the advantage, in strength, age, and experience in the ship'sduty, for this was the first time the Boston boy had been on saltwater. The latter, however, had "picked up his crumbs, " was learninghis duty, and getting strength and confidence daily; and began toassert his rights against his oppressor. Still, the other was hismaster, and, by his superior strength, always tackled with him andthrew him down. One afternoon, before we were turned-to, these boysgot into a violent squabble in the between-decks, when George (theBoston boy) said he would fight Nat, if he could have fair play. Thechief mate heard the noise, dove down the hatchway, hauled them both upon deck, and told them to shake hands and have no more trouble for thevoyage, or else they should fight till one gave in for beaten. Findingneither willing to make an offer for reconciliation, he called allhands up, (for the captain was ashore, and he could do as he choseaboard, ) ranged the crew in the waist, marked a line on the deck, brought the two boys up to it, making them "toe the mark;" then madethe bight of a rope fast to a belaying pin, and stretched it across thedeck, bringing it just above their waists. "No striking below therope!" And there they stood, one on each side of it, face to face, andwent at it like two game-cocks. The Cape Cod boy, Nat, put in hisdouble-fisters, starting the blood, and bringing the black and bluespots all over the face and arms of the other, whom we expected to seegive in every moment: but the more he was hurt, the better he fought. Time after time he was knocked nearly down, but up he came again andfaced the mark, as bold as a lion, again to take the heavy blows, whichsounded so as to make one's heart turn with pity for him. At length hecame up to the mark for the last time, his shirt torn from his body, his face covered with blood and bruises, and his eyes flashing fire, and swore he would stand there until one or the other was killed, andset-to like a young fury. "Hurrah in the bow!" said the men, cheeringhim on. "Well crowed!" "Never say die, while there's a shot in thelocker!" Nat tried to close with him, knowing his advantage, but themate stopped that, saying there should be fair play, and no fingering. Nat then came up to the mark, but looked white about the mouth, and hisblows were not given with half the spirit of his first. He wasevidently cowed. He had always been his master, and had nothing togain, and everything to lose; while the other fought for honor andfreedom, under a sense of wrong. It would not do. It was soon over. Nat gave in; not so much beaten, as cowed and mortified; and neverafterwards tried to act the bully on board. We took George forward, washed him in the deck-tub, complimented his pluck, and from this timehe became somebody on board, having fought himself into notice. Mr. Brown's plan had a good effect, for there was no more quarrelling amongthe boys for the rest of the voyage. 

Wednesday, January 6th. Set sail from Monterey, with a number ofSpaniards as passengers, and shaped our course for Santa Barbara. TheDiana went out of the bay in company with us, but parted from us offPoint Pinos, being bound to the Sandwich Islands. We had a smackingbreeze for several hours, and went along at a great rate, until night, when it died away, as usual, and the land-breeze set in, which broughtus upon a taught bowline. Among our passengers was a young man who wasthe best representation of a decayed gentleman I had ever seen. Hereminded me much of some of the characters in Gil Blas. He was of thearistocracy of the country, his family being of pure Spanish blood, andonce of great importance in Mexico. His father had been governor of theprovince, and having amassed a large property, settled at San Diego, where he built a large house with a court-yard in front, kept a greatretinue of Indians, and set up for the grandee of that part of thecountry. His son was sent to Mexico, where he received the besteducation, and went into the first society of the capital. Misfortune, extravagance, and the want of funds, or any manner of getting intereston money, soon eat the estate up, and Don Juan Bandini returned fromMexico accomplished, poor, and proud, and without any office oroccupation, to lead the life of most young men of the betterfamilies--dissolute and extravagant when the means are at hand;ambitious at heart, and impotent in act; often pinched for bread;keeping up an appearance of style, when their poverty is known to eachhalf-naked Indian boy in the street, and they stand in dread of everysmall trader and shopkeeper in the place. He had a slight and elegantfigure, moved gracefully, danced and waltzed beautifully, spoke thebest of Castilian, with a pleasant and refined voice and accent, andhad, throughout, the bearing of a man of high birth and figure. Yethere he was, with his passage given him, (as I afterwards learned, ) forhe had not the means of paying for it, and living upon the charity ofour agent. He was polite to every one, spoke to the sailors, and gavefour reáls--I dare say the last he had in his pocket--to the steward, who waited upon him. I could not but feel a pity for him, especiallywhen I saw him by the side of his fellow-passenger and townsman, a fat, coarse, vulgar, pretending fellow of a Yankee trader, who had mademoney in San Diego, and was eating out the very vitals of the Bandinis, fattening upon their extravagance, grinding them in their poverty;having mortgages on their lands, forestalling their cattle, and alreadymaking an inroad upon their jewels, which were their last hope. 

Don Juan had with him a retainer, who was as much like many of thecharacters in Gil Blas as his master. He called himself a privatesecretary, though there was no writing for him to do, and he lived inthe steerage with the carpenter and sailmaker. He was certainly acharacter; could read and write extremely well; spoke good Spanish; hadbeen all over Spanish America, and lived in every possible situation, and served in every conceivable capacity, though generally in that ofconfidential servant to some man of figure. I cultivated this man'sacquaintance, and during the five weeks that he was with us, --for heremained on board until we arrived at San Diego, --I gained a greaterknowledge of the state of political parties in Mexico, and the habitsand affairs of the different classes of society, than I could havelearned from almost any one else. He took great pains in correcting mySpanish, and supplying me with colloquial phrases, and common terms andexclamations in speaking. He lent me a file of late newspapers fromthe city of Mexico, which were full of triumphal receptions of SantaAna, who had just returned from Tampico after a victory, and with thepreparations for his expedition against the Texans. "Viva Santa Ana!"was the by-word everywhere, and it had even reached California, thoughthere were still many here, among whom was Don Juan Bandini, who wereopposed to his government, and intriguing to bring in Bustamente. Santa Ana, they said, was for breaking down the missions; or, as theytermed it--"Santa Ana no quiere religion. " Yet I had no doubt that theoffice of administrador of San Diego would reconcile Don Juan to anydynasty, and any state of the church. In these papers, too, I foundscraps of American and English news; but which were so unconnected, andI was so ignorant of everything preceding them for eighteen monthspast, that they only awakened a curiosity which they could not satisfy. One article spoke of Taney as Justicia Mayor de los Estados Unidos, (what had become of Marshall? was he dead, or banished?) and anothermade known, by news received from Vera Cruz, that "El VizcondeMelbourne" had returned to the office of "primer ministro, " in place ofSir Roberto Peel. (Sir Robert Peel had been minister, then? and wherewere Earl Grey and the Duke of Wellington?) Here were the outlines ofa grand parliamentary overturn, the filling up of which I could imagineat my leisure. 

The second morning after leaving Monterey, we were off PointConception. It was a bright, sunny day, and the wind, though strong, was fair; and everything was in striking contrast with our experiencein the same place two months before, when we were drifting off from anorthwester under a fore and main spencer. "Sail ho!" cried a man whowas rigging out a top-gallant studding-sail boom. --"Whereaway?"--"Weather beam, sir!" and in a few minutes a full-rigged brigwas seen standing out from under Point Conception. The studding-sailhalyards were let go, and the yards boom-ended, the after yards bracedaback, and we waited her coming down. She rounded to, backed her maintopsail, and showed her decks full of men, four guns on a side, hammocknettings, and everything man-of-war fashion, except that there was noboatswain's whistle, and no uniforms on the quarter-deck. A short, square-built man, in a rough grey jacket, with a speaking-trumpet inhand, stood in the weather hammock nettings. "Shipahoy!"--"Hallo!"--"What ship is that, pray?"--"Alert. "--"Where are youfrom, pray?" etc. , etc. She proved to be the brig Convoy, from theSandwich Islands, engaged in otter hunting, among the islands which liealong the coast. Her armament was from her being an illegal trader. The otter are very numerous among these islands, and being of greatvalue, the government require a heavy sum for a license to hunt them, and lay a high duty upon every one shot or carried out of the country. This vessel had no license, and paid no duty, besides being engaged insmuggling goods on board other vessels trading on the coast, andbelonging to the same owners in Oahu. Our captain told him to look outfor the Mexicans, but he said they had not an armed vessel of his sizein the whole Pacific. This was without doubt the same vessel thatshowed herself off Santa Barbara a few months before. These vesselsfrequently remain on the coast for years, without making port, exceptat the islands for wood and water, and an occasional visit to Oahu fora new outfit. 

Sunday, January 10th. Arrived at Santa Barbara, and on the followingWednesday, slipped our cable and went to sea, on account of asouth-easter. Returned to our anchorage the next day. We were theonly vessel in the port. The Pilgrim had passed through the Canal andhove-to off the town, nearly six weeks before, on her passage down fromMonterey, and was now at the leeward. She heard here of our safearrival at San Francisco. 

Great preparations were making on shore for the marriage of our agent, who was to marry Donna Anneta De G---- De N---- y C----, youngestdaughter of Don Antonio N----, the grandee of the place, and the headof the first family in California. Our steward was ashore three days, making pastry and cake, and some of the best of our stores were sentoff with him. On the day appointed for the wedding, we took thecaptain ashore in the gig, and had orders to come for him at night, with leave to go up to the house and see the fandango. Returning onboard, we found preparations making for a salute. Our guns were loadedand run out, men appointed to each, cartridges served out, matcheslighted, and all the flags ready to be run up. I took my place at thestarboard after gun, and we all waited for the signal from on shore. At ten o'clock the bride went up with her sister to the confessional, dressed in deep black. Nearly an hour intervened, when the great doorsof the mission church opened, the bells rang out a loud, discordantpeal, the private signal for us was run up by the captain ashore, thebride, dressed in complete white, came out of the church with thebridegroom, followed by a long procession. Just as she stepped fromthe church door, a small white cloud issued from the bows of our ship, which was full in sight, the loud report echoed among the surroundinghills and over the bay, and instantly the ship was dressed in flags andpennants from stem to stern. Twenty-three guns followed in regularsuccession, with an interval of fifteen seconds between each when thecloud cleared away, and the ship lay dressed in her colors, all day. At sun-down, another salute of the same number of guns was fired, andall the flags run down. This we thought was pretty well--a gun everyfifteen seconds--for a merchantman with only four guns and a dozen ortwenty men. 

After supper, the gig's crew were called, and we rowed ashore, dressedin our uniform, beached the boat, and went up to the fandango. Thebride's father's house was the principal one in the place, with a largecourt in front, upon which a tent was built, capable of containingseveral hundred people. As we drew near, we heard the accustomed soundof violins and guitars, and saw a great motion of the people within. Going in, we found nearly all the people of the town--men, women, andchildren--collected and crowded together, leaving barely room for thedancers; for on these occasions no invitations are given, but every oneis expected to come, though there is always a private entertainmentwithin the house for particular friends. The old women sat down inrows, clapping their hands to the music, and applauding the young ones. The music was lively, and among the tunes, we recognized several of ourpopular airs, which we, without doubt, have taken from the Spanish. Inthe dancing, I was much disappointed. The women stood upright, withtheir hands down by their sides, their eyes fixed upon the groundbefore them, and slided about without any perceptible means of motion;for their feet were invisible, the hem of their dresses forming aperfect circle about them, reaching to the ground. They looked asgrave as though they were going through some religious ceremony, theirfaces as little excited as their limbs; and on the whole, instead ofthe spirited, fascinating Spanish dances which I had expected, I foundthe Californian fandango, on the part of the women at least, a lifelessaffair. The men did better. They danced with grace and spirit, movingin circles round their nearly stationary partners, and showing theirfigures to great advantage. 

A great deal was said about our friend Don Juan Bandini, and when hedid appear, which was toward the close of the evening, he certainlygave us the most graceful dancing that I had ever seen. He was dressedin white pantaloons neatly made, a short jacket of dark silk, gailyfigured, white stockings and thin morocco slippers upon his very smallfeet. His slight and graceful figure was well calculated for dancing, and he moved about with the grace and daintiness of a young fawn. Anoccasional touch of the toe to the ground, seemed all that wasnecessary to give him a long interval of motion in the air. At thesame time he was not fantastic or flourishing, but appeared to berather repressing a strong tendency to motion. He was loudlyapplauded, and danced frequently toward the close of the evening. After the supper, the waltzing began, which was confined to a very fewof the "gente de razón, " and was considered a high accomplishment, anda mark of aristocracy. Here, too, Don Juan figured greatly, waltzingwith the sister of the bride, (Donna Angustia, a handsome woman and ageneral favorite, ) in a variety of beautiful, but, to me, offensivefigures, which lasted as much as half an hour, no one else taking thefloor. They were repeatedly and loudly applauded, the old men and womenjumping out of their seats in admiration, and the young people wavingtheir hats and handkerchiefs. Indeed among people of the character ofthese Mexicans, the waltz seemed to me to have found its right place. The great amusement of the evening, --which I suppose was owing to itsbeing carnival--was the breaking of eggs filled with cologne, or otheressences, upon the heads of the company. One end of the egg is brokenand the inside taken out, then it is partly filled with cologne, andthe whole sealed up. The women bring a great number of these secretlyabout them, and the amusement is to break one upon the head of agentleman when his back is turned. He is bound in gallantry to findout the lady and return the compliment, though it must not be done ifthe person sees you. A tall, stately Don, with immense grey whiskers, and a look of great importance, was standing before me, when I felt alight hand on my shoulder, and turning round, saw Donna Angustia, (whomwe all knew, as she had been up to Monterey, and down again, in theAlert, ) with her finger upon her lip, motioning me gently aside. Istepped back a little, when she went up behind the Don, and with onehand knocked off his huge sombrero, and at the same instant, with theother, broke the egg upon his head, and springing behind me, was out ofsight in a moment. The Don turned slowly round, the cologne, runningdown his face, and over his clothes, and a loud laugh breaking out fromevery quarter. He looked round in vain, for some time, until thedirection of so many laughing eyes showed him the fair offender. Shewas his niece, and a great favorite with him, so old Don Domingo had tojoin in the laugh. A great many such tricks were played, and many awar of sharp manoeuvering was carried on between couples of the youngerpeople, and at every successful exploit a general laugh was raised. 

Another singular custom I was for some time at a loss about. A prettyyoung girl was dancing, named, after what would appear to us thesacrilegious custom of the country--Espiritu Santo, when a young manwent behind her and placed his hat directly upon her head, letting itfall down over her eyes, and sprang back among the crowd. She dancedfor some time with the hat on, when she threw it off, which calledforth a general shout; and the young man was obliged to go out upon thefloor and pick it up. Some of the ladies, upon whose heads hats hadbeen placed, threw them off at once, and a few kept them on throughoutthe dance, and took them off at the end, and held them out in theirhands, when the owner stepped out, bowed, and took it from them. Isoon began to suspect the meaning of the thing, and was afterward toldthat it was a compliment, and an offer to become the lady's gallant forthe rest of the evening, and to wait upon her home. If the hat wasthrown off, the offer was refused, and the gentleman was obliged topick up his hat amid a general laugh. Much amusement was causedsometimes by gentlemen putting hats on the ladies' heads, withoutpermitting them to see whom it was done by. This obliged them to throwthem off, or keep them on at a venture, and when they came to discoverthe owner, the laugh was often turned upon them. The captain sent forus about ten o'clock, and we went aboard in high spirits, havingenjoyed the new scene much, and were of great importance among thecrew, from having so much to tell, and from the prospect of going everynight until it was over; for these fandangos generally last three days. The next day, two of us were sent up to the town, and took care to comeback by way of Capitan Noriego's and take a look into the booth. Themusicians were still there, upon their platform, scraping and twangingaway, and a few people, apparently of the lower classes, were dancing. The dancing is kept up, at intervals, throughout the day, but thecrowd, the spirit, and the élite, come in at night. The next night, which was the last, we went ashore in the same manner, until we gotalmost tired of the monotonous twang of the instruments, the drawlingsounds which the women kept up, as an accompaniment, and the slappingof the hands in time with the music, in place of castanets. We foundourselves as great objects of attention as any persons or anything atthe place. Our sailor dresses--and we took great pains to have themneat and shipshape--were much admired, and we were invited, from everyquarter, to give them an American sailor's dance; but after theridiculous figure some of our countrymen cut, in dancing after theSpaniards, we thought it best to leave it to their imaginations. Ouragent, with a tight, black, swallow-tailed coat, just imported fromBoston, a high stiff cravat, looking as if he had been pinned andskewered, with only his feet and hands left free, took the floor justafter Bandini; and we thought they had had enough of Yankee grace. 

The last night they kept it up in great style, and were getting into ahigh-go, when the captain called us off to go aboard, for, it beingsouth-easter season, he was afraid to remain on shore long; and it waswell he did not, for that very night, we slipped our cables, as acrowner to our fun ashore, and stood off before a south-easter, whichlasted twelve hours, and returned to our anchorage the next day. 

CHAPTER XXVIII

AN OLD FRIEND--A VICTIM--CALIFORNIA RANGERS--NEWS FROM HOME--LAST LOOKS

Monday, Feb. 1st. After having been in port twenty-one days, we sailedfor San Pedro, where we arrived on the following day, having gone "allfluking, " with the weather clew of the mainsail hauled up, the yardsbraced in a little, and the lower studding-sails just drawing; the windhardly shifting a point during the passage. Here we found the Ayacuchoand the Pilgrim, which last we had not seen since the 11th ofSeptember, --nearly five months; and I really felt something like anaffection for the old brig which had been my first home, and in which Ihad spent nearly a year, and got the first rough and tumble of a sealife. She, too, was associated, in my mind with Boston, the wharf fromwhich we sailed, anchorage in the stream, leave-taking, and all suchmatters, which were now to me like small links connecting me withanother world, which I had once been in, and which, please God, I mightyet see again. I went on board the first night, after supper; found theold cook in the galley, playing upon the fife which I had given him, asa parting present; had a hearty shake of the hand from him; and dovedown into the forecastle, where were my old ship-mates, the same asever, glad to see me; for they had nearly given us up as lost, especially when they did not find us in Santa Barbara. They had been atSan Diego last, had been lying at San Pedro nearly a month, and hadreceived three thousand hides from the pueblo. These were taken fromher the next day, which filled us up, and we both got under weigh onthe 4th, she bound up to San Francisco again, and we to San Diego, where we arrived on the 6th. 

We were always glad to see San Diego; it being the depot, and a snuglittle place, and seeming quite like home, especially to me, who hadspent a summer there. There was no vessel in port, the Rosa havingsailed for Valparaiso and Cadiz, and the Catalina for Callao, nearly amonth before. We discharged our hides, and in four days were ready tosail again for the windward; and, to our great joy--for the last time!Over thirty thousand hides had been already collected, cured, andstowed away in the house, which, together with what we should collect, and the Pilgrim would bring down from San Francisco, would make out hercargo. The thought that we were actually going up for the last time, and that the next time we went round San Diego point it would be"homeward bound, " brought things so near a close, that we felt asthough we were just there, though it must still be the greater part ofa year before we could see Boston. 

I spent one evening, as had been my custom, at the oven with theSandwich Islanders; but it was far from being the usual noisy, laughingtime. It has been said, that the greatest curse to each of the SouthSea islands, was the first man who discovered it; and every one whoknows anything of the history of our commerce in those parts, knows howmuch truth there is in this; and that the white men, with their vices, have brought in diseases before unknown to the islanders, and which arenow sweeping off the native population of the Sandwich Islands, at therate of one fortieth of the entire population annually. They seem tobe a doomed people. The curse of a people calling themselves Christian, seems to follow them everywhere; and even here, in this obscure place, lay two young islanders, whom I had left strong, active young men, inthe vigor of health, wasting away under a disease, which they wouldnever have known but for their intercourse with Christianized Mexicoand people from Christian America. One of them was not so ill; and wasmoving about, smoking his pipe, and talking, and trying to keep up hisspirits; but the other, who was my friend, and Aikane--Hope, was themost dreadful object I had ever seen in my life: his eyes sunken anddead, his cheeks fallen in against his teeth, his hands looking likeclaws; a dreadful cough, which seemed to rack his whole shatteredsystem, a hollow whispering voice, and an entire inability to movehimself. There he lay, upon a mat, on the ground, which was the onlyfloor of the oven, with no medicine, no comforts, and no one to carefor, or help him, but a few Kanakas, who were willing enough, but coulddo nothing. The sight of him made me sick, and faint. Poor fellow!During the four months that I lived upon the beach, we were continuallytogether, both in work, and in our excursions in the woods, and uponthe water. I really felt a strong affection for him, and preferred himto any of my own countrymen there; and I believe there was nothingwhich he would not have done for me. When I came into the oven helooked at me, held out his hand, and said, in a low voice, but with adelightful smile, "Aloha, Aikane! Aloha nui!" I comforted him as wellas I could, and promised to ask the captain to help him from themedicine-chest, and told him I had no doubt the captain would do whathe could for him, as he had worked in our employ for several years, both on shore and aboard our vessels on the coast. I went aboard andturned into my hammock, but I could not sleep. 

Thinking, from my education, that I must have some knowledge ofmedicine, the Kanakas had insisted upon my examining him carefully; andit was not a sight to be forgotten. One of our crew, an oldman-of-war's man, of twenty years' standing, who had seen sin andsuffering in every shape, and whom I afterwards took to see Hope, saidit was dreadfully worse than anything he had ever seen, or even dreamedof. He was horror-struck, as his countenance showed; yet he had beenamong the worst cases in our naval hospitals. I could not get thethought of the poor fellow out of my head all night; his horriblesuffering, and his apparently inevitable, horrible end. 

The next day I told the captain of Hope's state, and asked him if hewould be so kind as to go and see him. 

"What? a d----d Kanaka?"

"Yes, sir, " said I; "but he has worked four years for our vessels, andhas been in the employ of our owners, both on shore and aboard. "

"Oh! he be d----d!" said the captain, and walked off. 

This same man died afterwards of a fever on the deadly coast ofSumatra; and God grant he had better care taken of him in hissufferings, than he ever gave to any one else! Finding nothing was tobe got from the captain, I consulted an old shipmate, who had muchexperience in these matters, and got from him a recipe, which he alwayskept by him. With this I went to the mate, and told him the case. Mr. Brown had been entrusted with the general care of the medicine-chest, and although a driving fellow, and a taught hand in a watch, he hadgood feelings, and was always inclined to be kind to the sick. He saidthat Hope was not strictly one of the crew, but as he was in our employwhen taken sick, he should have the medicines; and he got them and gavethem to me, with leave to go ashore at night. Nothing could exceed thedelight of the Kanakas, when I came bringing the medicines. All theirterms of affection and gratitude were spent upon me, and in a sensewasted, (for I could not understand half of them, ) yet they made allknown by their manner. Poor Hope was so much revived at the barethought of anything's being done for him, that he was already strongerand better. I knew he must die as he was, and he could but die underthe medicines, and any chance was worth running. An oven, exposed toevery wind and change of weather, is no place to take calomel; butnothing else would do, and strong remedies must be used, or he wasgone. The applications, internal and external, were powerful, and Igave him strict directions to keep warm and sheltered, telling him itwas his only chance for life. Twice, after this, I visited him, havingonly time to run up, while waiting in the boat. He promised to takehis medicines regularly until we returned, and insisted upon it that hewas doing better. 

We got under weigh on the 10th, bound up to San Pedro, and had threedays of calm and head winds, making but little progress. On the fourth, we took a stiff south-easter, which obliged us to reef our topsails. While on the yard, we saw a sail on the weather bow, and in about halfan hour, passed the Ayacucho, under double-reefed topsails, beatingdown to San Diego. Arrived at San Pedro on the fourth day, and came-toin the old place, a league from shore, with no other vessel in port, and the prospect of three weeks, or more, of dull life, rolling goodsup a slippery hill, carrying hides on our heads over sharp stones, and, perhaps, slipping for a south-easter. 

There was but one man in the only house here, and him I shall alwaysremember as a good specimen of a California ranger. He had been atailor in Philadelphia, and getting intemperate and in debt, he joineda trapping party and went to the Columbia river, and thence down toMonterey, where he spent everything, left his party, and came to thePueblo de los Angelos, to work at his trade. Here he went dead toleeward among the pulperias, gambling rooms, etc. , and came down to SanPedro, to be moral by being out of temptation. He had been in thehouse several weeks, working hard at his trade, upon orders which hehad brought with him, and talked much of his resolution, and opened hisheart to us about his past life. After we had been here some time, hestarted off one morning, in fine spirits, well dressed, to carry theclothes which he had been making to the pueblo, and saying he wouldbring back his money and some fresh orders the next day. The next daycame, and a week passed, and nearly a fortnight, when, one day, goingashore, we saw a tall man, who looked like our friend the tailor, getting out of the back of an Indian's cart, which had just come downfrom the pueblo. He stood for the house, but we bore up after him; whenfinding that we were overhauling him, he hove-to and spoke us. Such asight I never saw before. Barefooted, with an old pair of trowserstied round his waist by a piece of green hide, a soiled cotton shirt, and a torn Indian hat; "cleaned out, " to the last reál, and completely"used up. " He confessed the whole matter; acknowledged that he was onhis back; and now he had a prospect of a fit of the horrors for a week, and of being worse than useless for months. This is a specimen of thelife of half of the Americans and English who are adrift over the wholeof California. One of the same stamp was Russell, who was master ofthe hide-house at San Diego, while I was there, and afterwards turnedaway for his misconduct. He spent his own money and nearly all thestores among the half-bloods upon the beach, and being turned away, went up to the Presidio, where he lived the life of a desperate"loafer, " until some rascally deed sent him off "between two days, "with men on horseback, dogs, and Indians in full cry after him, amongthe hills. One night, he burst into our room at the hide-house, breathless, pale as a ghost, covered with mud, and torn by thorns andbriers, nearly naked, and begged for a crust of bread, saying he hadneither eaten nor slept for three days. Here was the great Mr. Russell, who a month before was "Don Tomàs, " "Capitán de la playa, ""Maéstro de la casa, " etc. , etc. , begging food and shelter of Kanakasand sailors. He staid with us till he gave himself up, and was draggedoff to the calabozo. 

Another, and a more amusing specimen, was one whom we saw at SanFrancisco. He had been a lad on board the ship California, in one ofher first voyages, and ran away and commenced Ranchéro, gambling, stealing horses, etc. He worked along up to San Francisco, and wasliving on a rancho near there, while we were in port. One morning, when we went ashore in the boat, we found him at the landing-place, dressed in California style, --a wide hat, faded velveteen trowsers, anda blanket cloak thrown over his shoulders--and wishing to go off in theboat, saying he was going to paseár with our captain a little. We hadmany doubts of the reception he would meet with; but he seemed to thinkhimself company for any one. We took him aboard, landed him at thegangway, and went about our work, keeping an eye upon the quarter-deck, where the captain was walking. The lad went up to him with the mostcomplete assurance, and raising his hat, wished him a good afternoon. Captain T---- turned round, looked at him from head to foot, and sayingcoolly, "Hallo! who the h--- are you?" kept on his walk. This was arebuff not to be mistaken, and the joke passed about among the crew bywinks and signs, at different parts of the ship. Finding himselfdisappointed at headquarters, he edged along forward to the mate, whowas overseeing some work on the forecastle, and tried to begin a yarn;but it would not do. The mate had seen the reception he had met withaft, and would have no cast-off company. The second mate was aloft, and the third mate and myself were painting the quarter-boat, whichhung by the davits, so he betook himself to us; but we looked at oneanother, and the officer was too busy to say a word. From us, he wentto one and another of the crew, but the joke had got before him, and hefound everybody busy and silent. Looking over the rail a few momentsafterward, we saw him at the galley-door talking to the cook. This wasa great comedown, from the highest seat in the synagogue to a seat inthe galley with the black cook. At night, too, when supper was called, he stood in the waist for some time, hoping to be asked down with theofficers, but they went below, one after another, and left him. Hisnext chance was with the carpenter and sail-maker, and he lounged roundthe after hatchway until the last had gone down. We had now had funenough out of him, and taking pity on him, offered him a pot of tea, and a cut at the kid, with the rest, in the forecastle. He was hungry, and it was growing dark, and he began to see that there was no use inplaying the caballero any longer, and came down into the forecastle, put into the "grub" in sailor's style, threw off all his airs, andenjoyed the joke as much as any one; for a man must take a joke amongsailors. He gave us the whole account of his adventures in thecountry, --roguery and all--and was very entertaining. He was a smart, unprincipled fellow, was at the bottom of most of the rascally doingsof the country, and gave us a great deal of interesting information inthe ways of the world we were in. 

Saturday, Feb. 13th. Were called up at midnight to slip for a violentnorth-easter, for this rascally hole of San Pedro is unsafe in everywind but a south-wester, which is seldom known to blow more than oncein a half century. We went off with a flowing sheet, and hove-to underthe lee of Catalina island, where we lay three days, and then returnedto our anchorage. 

Tuesday, Feb. 23d. This afternoon, a signal was made from the shore, and we went off in the gig, and found the agent's clerk, who had beenup to the pueblo, waiting at the landing-place, with a package underhis arm, covered with brown papers and tied carefully with twine. Nosooner had we shoved off than he told us there was good news from SantaBarbara. "What's that?" said one of the crew; "has the bloody agentslipped off the hooks? Has the old bundle of bones got him atlast?"--"No; better than that. The California has arrived. " Letters, papers, news, and, perhaps, --friends, on board! Our hearts were all upin our mouths, and we pulled away like good fellows; for the preciouspacket could not be opened except by the captain. As we pulled underthe stern, the clerk held up the package, and called out to the mate, who was leaning over the taffrail, that the California had arrived. 

"Hurrah!" said the mate, so as to be heard fore and aft; "Californiacome, and news from Boston!"

Instantly there was a confusion on board which no one could account forwho has not been in the same situation. All discipline seemed for amoment relaxed. 

"What's that, Mr. Brown?" said the cook, putting his head out of thegalley--"California come?"

"Aye, aye! you angel of darkness, and there's a letter for you fromBullknop 'treet, number two-two-five--green door and brass knocker!"

The packet was sent down into the cabin, and every one waited to hearof the result. As nothing came up, the officers began to feel thatthey were acting rather a child's part, and turned the crew to againand the same strict discipline was restored, which prohibits speechbetween man and man, while at work on deck; so that, when the stewardcame forward with letters for the crew, each man took his letters, carried them below to his chest, and came up again immediately; and nota letter was read until we had cleared up decks for the night. 

An overstrained sense of manliness is the characteristic of seafaringmen, or, rather, of life on board ship. This often gives an appearanceof want of feeling, and even of cruelty. From this, if a man comeswithin an ace of breaking his neck and escapes, it is made a joke of;and no notice must be taken of a bruise or cut; and any expression ofpity, or any show of attention, would look sisterly, and unbecoming aman who has to face the rough and tumble of such a life. From this, too, the sick are neglected at sea, and whatever sailors may be ashore, a sick man finds little sympathy or attention, forward or aft. A man, too, can have nothing peculiar or sacred on board ship; for all thenicer feelings they take pride in disregarding, both in themselves andothers. A thin-skinned man could not live an hour on ship-board. Onewould be torn raw unless he had the hide of an ox. A moment of naturalfeeling for home and friends, and then the frigid routine of sea-lifereturned. Jokes were made upon those who showed any interest in theexpected news, and everything near and dear was made common stock forrude jokes and unfeeling coarseness, to which no exception could betaken by any one. 

Supper, too, must be eaten before the letters were read; and when, atlast, they were brought out, they all got round any one who had aletter, and expected to have it read aloud, and have it all in common. If any one went by himself to read, it was--"Fair play, there; and noskulking!" I took mine and went into the sailmaker's berth, where Icould read it without interruption. It was dated August, just a yearfrom the time I had sailed from home; and every one was well, and nogreat change had taken place. Thus, for one year, my mind was set atease, yet it was already six months from the date of the letter, andwhat another year would bring to pass, who could tell? Every one awayfrom home thinks that some great thing must have happened, while tothose at home there seems to be a continued monotony and lack ofincident. 

As much as my feelings were taken up by my own intelligence from home, I could not but be amused by a scene in the steerage. The carpenter hadbeen married just before leaving Boston, and during the voyage hadtalked much about his wife, and had to bear and forbear, as every man, known to be married, must, aboard ship; yet the certainty of hearingfrom his wife by the first ship, seemed to keep up his spirits. TheCalifornia came, the packet was brought on board; no one was in higherspirits than he; but when the letters came forward, there was none forhim. The captain looked again, but there was no mistake. Poor"Chips, " could eat no supper. He was completely down in the mouth. "Sails" (the sailmaker) tried to comfort him, and told him he was abloody fool to give up his grub for any woman's daughter, and remindedhim that he had told him a dozen times that he'd never see or hear fromhis wife again. 

"Ah!" said "Chips, " "you don't know what it is to have a wife, and"--

"Don't I?" said Sails; and then came, for the hundredth time, the storyof his coming ashore at New York, from the Constellation frigate, aftera cruise of four years round the Horn, --being paid off with over fivehundred dollars, --marrying, and taking a couple of rooms in afour-story house, --furnishing the rooms, (with a particular account ofthe furniture, including a dozen flag-bottomed chairs, which he alwaysdilated upon, whenever the subject of furniture was alluded to, )--goingoff to sea again, leaving his wife half-pay, like a fool, --coming homeand finding her "off, like Bob's horse, with nobody to pay thereckoning;" furniture gone, --flag-bottomed chairs and all;--and withit, his "long togs, " the half-pay, his beaver hat, white linen shirts, and everything else. His wife he never saw, or heard of, from that dayto this, and never wished to. Then followed a sweeping assertion, notmuch to the credit of the sex, if true, though he has Pope to back him. "Come, Chips, cheer up like a man, and take some hot grub! Don't bemade a fool of by anything in petticoats! As for your wife, you'llnever see her again; she was 'up keeleg and off' before you wereoutside of Cape Cod. You hove your money away like a fool; but everyman must learn once, just as I did; so you'd better square the yardswith her, and make the best of it. "

This was the best consolation "Sails" had to offer, but it did not seemto be just the thing the carpenter wanted; for, during several days, hewas very much dejected, and bore with difficulty the jokes of thesailors, and with still more difficulty their attempts at advice andconsolation, of most of which the sailmaker's was a good specimen. 

Thursday, Feb. 25th. Set sail for Santa Barbara, where we arrived onSunday, the 28th. We just missed of seeing the California, for she hadsailed three days before, bound to Monterey, to enter her cargo andprocure her license, and thence to San Francisco, etc. Captain Arthurleft files of Boston papers for Captain T----, which, after they hadbeen read and talked over in the cabin, I procured from my friend thethird mate. One file was of all the Boston Transcripts for the monthof August, 1835, and the rest were about a dozen Daily Advertisers andCouriers, of different dates. After all, there is nothing in a strangeland like a newspaper from home. Even a letter, in many respects, isnothing, in comparison with it. It carries you back to the spot, better than anything else. It is almost equal to clairvoyance. Thenames of the streets, with the things advertised, are almost as good asseeing the signs; and while reading "Boy lost!" one can almost hear thebell and well-known voice of "Old Wilson, " crying the boy as "strayed, stolen, or mislaid!" Then there was the Commencement at Cambridge, andthe full account of the exercises at the graduating of my own class. Alist of all those familiar names, (beginning as usual with Abbot, andending with W. , ) which, as I read them over, one by one, brought uptheir faces and characters as I had known them in the various scenes ofcollege life. Then I imagined them upon the stage, speaking theirorations, dissertations, colloquies, etc. , with the gestures and tonesof each, and tried to fancy the manner in which each would handle hissubject, *****, handsome, showy, and superficial; *****, with hisstrong head, clear brain, cool self-possession; *****, modest, sensitive, and underrated; *****, the mouth-piece of the debatingclubs, noisy, vaporous, and democratic; and so following. Then I couldsee them receiving their A. Bs. From the dignified, feudal-lookingPresident, with his "auctoritate mihi commissâ, " and walking off thestage with their diplomas in their hands; while upon the very same day, their classmate was walking up and down California beach with a hideupon his head. 

Every watch below, for a week, I pored over these papers, until I wassure there could be nothing in them that had escaped my attention, andwas ashamed to keep them any longer. 

Saturday, March 5th. This was an important day in our almanac, for itwas on this day that we were first assured that our voyage was reallydrawing to a close. The captain gave orders to have the ship ready forgetting under weigh; and observed that there was a good breeze to takeus down to San Pedro. Then we were not going up to windward. Thusmuch was certain, and was soon known, fore and aft; and when we went inthe gig to take him off, he shook hands with the people on the beach, and said that he never expected to see Santa Barbara again. Thissettled the matter, and sent a thrill of pleasure through the heart ofevery one in the boat. We pulled off with a will, saying to ourselves(I can speak for myself at least)--"Good-by, Santa Barbara!--This isthe last pull here--No more duckings in your breakers, and slippingfrom your cursed south-easters!" The news was soon known aboard, andput life into everything when we were getting under weigh. Each onewas taking his last look at the mission, the town, the breakers on thebeach, and swearing that no money would make him ship to see themagain; and when all hands tallied on to the cat-fall, the chorus of"Time for us to go!" was raised for the first time, and joined in, withfull swing, by everybody. One would have thought we were on our voyagehome, so near did it seem to us, though there were yet three months forus on the coast. 

We left here the young Englishman, George Marsh, of whom I have beforespoken, who was wrecked upon the Pelew Islands. He left us to take theberth of second mate on board the Ayacucho, which was lying in port. He was well qualified for this, and his education would enable him torise to any situation on board ship. I felt really sorry to part fromhim. There was something about him which excited my curiosity; for Icould not, for a moment, doubt that he was well born, and, in earlylife, well bred. There was the latent gentleman about him, and thesense of honor, and no little of the pride, of a young man of goodfamily. The situation was offered him only a few hours before wesailed; and though he must give up returning to America, yet I have nodoubt that the change from a dog's berth to an officer's, was tooagreeable to his feelings to be declined. We pulled him on board theAyacucho, and when he left the boat he gave each of its crew a piece ofmoney, except myself, and shook hands with me, nodding his head, asmuch as to say, --"We understand one another, " and sprang on board. HadI known, an hour sooner, that he was to leave us, I would have made aneffort to get from him the true history of his early life. He knewthat I had no faith in the story which he told the crew, and perhaps, in the moment of parting from me, probably forever, he would have givenme the true account. Whether I shall ever meet him again, or whetherhis manuscript narrative of his adventures in the Pelew Islands, whichwould be creditable to him and interesting to the world, will ever seethe light, I cannot tell. His is one of those cases which are morenumerous than those suppose, who have never lived anywhere but in theirown homes, and never walked but in one line from their cradles to theirgraves. We must come down from our heights, and leave our straightpaths, for the byways and low places of life, if we would learn truthsby strong contrasts; and in hovels, in forecastles, and among our ownoutcasts in foreign lands, see what has been wrought upon ourfellow-creatures by accident, hardship, or vice. 

Two days brought us to San Pedro, and two days more (to our no smalljoy) gave us our last view of that place, which was universally calledthe hell of California, and seemed designed, in every way, for the wearand tear of sailors. Not even the last view could bring out onefeeling of regret. No thanks, thought I, as we left the sandy shoresin the distance, for the hours I have walked over your stones, barefooted, with hides on my head;--for the burdens I have carried upyour steep, muddy hill; for the duckings in your surf; and for thelong days and longer nights passed on your desolate hill, watchingpiles of hides, hearing the sharp bark of your eternal coati, and thedismal hooting of your owls. 

As I bade good-by to each successive place, I felt as though one linkafter another were struck from the chain of my servitude. Having keptclose in shore, for the land-breeze, we passed the mission of San JuanCampestráno the same night, and saw distinctly, by the brightmoonlight, the hill which I had gone down by a pair of halyards insearch of a few paltry hides. "Forsan et haec olim, " thought I, andtook my last look of that place too. And on the next morning we wereunder the high point of San Diego. The flood tide took us swiftly in, and we came-to, opposite our hide-house, and prepared to get everythingin trim for a long stay. This was our last port. Here we were todischarge everything from the ship, clean her out, smoke her, take inour hides, wood, water, etc. , and set sail for Boston. While all thiswas doing, we were to lie still in one place, and the port was a safeone, and there was no fear of south-easters. Accordingly, havingpicked out a good berth, in the stream, with a good smooth beachopposite, for a landing-place and within two cables' length of ourhide-house, we moored ship, unbent all the sails, sent down thetop-gallant yards and all the studding-sail booms, and housed thetop-gallant masts. The boats were then hove out, and all the sails, spare spars, the stores, the rigging not rove, and, in fact, everythingwhich was not in daily use, sent ashore, and stowed away in the house. Then went all our hides and horns, and we left hardly anything in theship but her ballast, and this we made preparation to heave out, thenext day. At night, after we had knocked off, and were sitting roundin the forecastle, smoking and talking and taking sailor's pleasure, wecongratulated ourselves upon being in that situation in which we hadwished ourselves every time we had come into San Diego. "If we wereonly here for the last time, " we had often said, "with our top-gallantmasts housed and our sails unbent!"--and now we had our wish. Sixweeks, or two months, of the hardest work we had yet seen, was beforeus, and then--"Good-by to California!"

CHAPTER XXIX

LOADING FOR HOME--A SURPRISE--LAST OF AN OLD FRIEND--THE LAST HIDE--AHARD CASE--UP ANCHOR, FOR HOME!--HOMEWARD BOUND

We turned-in early, knowing that we might expect an early call; andsure enough, before the stars had quite faded, "All hands ahoy!" and wewere turned-to, heaving out ballast. A regulation of the port forbidsany ballast to be thrown overboard; accordingly, our long-boat waslined inside with rough boards and brought alongside the gangway, butwhere one tub-full went into the boat, twenty went overboard. This isdone by every vessel, for the ballast can make but little difference inthe channel, and it saves more than a week of labor, which would bespent in loading the boats, rowing them to the point, and unloadingthem. When any people from the Presidio were on board, the boat washauled up and ballast thrown in; but when the coast was clear, she wasdropped astern again, and the ballast fell overboard. This is one ofthose petty frauds which every vessel practises in ports of inferiorforeign nations, and which are lost sight of, among the countless deedsof greater weight which are hardly less common. Fortunately a sailor, not being a free agent in work aboard ship, is not accountable; yet thefact of being constantly employed, without thought, in such things, begets an indifference to the rights of others. 

Friday, and a part of Saturday, we were engaged in this work, until wehad thrown out all but what we wanted under our cargo on the passagehome; when, as the next day was Sunday, and a good day for smokingship, we cleared everything out of the cabin and forecastle, made aslow fire of charcoal, birch bark, brimstone, and other matters, on theballast in the bottom of the hold, calked up the hatches and every openseam, and pasted over the cracks of the windows, and the slides of thescuttles, and companionway. Wherever smoke was seen coming out, wecalked and pasted, and, so far as we could, made the ship smoke tight. The captain and officers slept under the awning which was spread overthe quarter-deck; and we stowed ourselves away under an oldstudding-sail, which we drew over one side of the forecastle. The nextday, from fear that something might happen, orders were given for noone to leave the ship, and, as the decks were lumbered up witheverything, we could not wash them down, so we had nothing to do, allday long. Unfortunately, our books were where we could not get at them, and we were turning about for something to do, when one man recollecteda book he had left in the galley. He went after it, and it proved tobe Woodstock. This was a great windfall, and as all could not read itat once, I, being the scholar of the company, was appointed reader. Igot a knot of six or eight about me, and no one could have had a moreattentive audience. Some laughed at the "scholars, " and went over theother side of the forecastle, to work, and spin their yarns; but Icarried the day, and had the cream of the crew for my hearers. Many ofthe reflections, and the political parts, I omitted, but all thenarrative they were delighted with; especially the descriptions of thePuritans, and the sermons and harangues of the Round-head soldiers. The gallantry of Charles, Dr. Radcliffe's plots, the knavery of "trustyTompkins, "--in fact, every part seemed to chain their attention. Manythings which, while I was reading, I had a misgiving about, thinkingthem above their capacity, I was surprised to find them enter intocompletely. 

I read nearly all day, until sundown; when, as soon as supper was over, as I had nearly finished, they got a light from the galley; and byskipping what was less interesting, I carried them through to themarriage of Everard, and the restoration of Charles the Second, beforeeight o'clock. 

The next morning, we took the battens from the hatches, and opened theship. A few stifled rats were found; and what bugs, cockroaches, fleas, and other vermin, there might have been on board, must haveunrove their life-lines before the hatches were opened. The ship beingnow ready, we covered the bottom of the hold over, fore and aft, withdried brush for dunnage, and having levelled everything away, we wereready to take in our cargo. All the hides that had been collectedsince the California left the coast, (a little more than two years, )amounting to about forty thousand, were cured, dried, and stowed awayin the house, waiting for our good ship to take them to Boston. 

Now began the operation of taking in our cargo, which kept us hard atwork, from the grey of the morning till star-light, for six weeks, withthe exception of Sundays, and of just time to swallow our meals. Tocarry the work on quicker, a division of labor was made. Two men threwthe hides down from the piles in the house, two more picked them up andput them on a long horizontal pole, raised a few feet from the ground, where they were beaten, by two more, with flails, somewhat like thoseused in threshing wheat. When beaten, they were taken from this poleby two more, and placed upon a platform of boards; and ten or a dozenmen, with their trowsers rolled up, were constantly going, back andforth, from the platform to the boat, which was kept off where shewould just float, with the hides upon their heads. The throwing thehides upon the pole was the most difficult work, and required a sleightof hand which was only to be got by long practice. As I was known fora hide-curer, this post was assigned to me, and I continued at it forsix or eight days, tossing, in that time, from eight to ten thousandhides, until my wrists became so lame that I gave in; and wastransferred to the gang that was employed in filling the boats, where Iremained for the rest of the time. As we were obliged to carry thehides on our heads from fear of their getting wet, we each had a pieceof sheepskin sewed into the inside of our hats, with the wool next toour heads, and thus were able to bear the weight, day after day, whichwould otherwise have soon worn off our hair, and borne hard upon ourskulls. Upon the whole, ours was the best berth; for though the waterwas nipping cold, early in the morning and late at night, and being socontinually wet was rather an exposure, yet we got rid of the constantdust and dirt from the beating of the hides, and being all of us youngand hearty, did not mind the exposure. The older men of the crew, whomit would have been dangerous to have kept in the water, remained onboard with the mate, to stow the hides away, as fast as they werebrought off by the boats. 

We continued at work in this manner until the lower hold was filled towithin four feet of the beams, when all hands were called aboard tocommence steeving. As this is a peculiar operation, it will require aminute description. 

Before stowing the hides, as I have said, the ballast is levelled off, just above the keelson, and then loose dunnage placed upon it, on whichthe hides rest. The greatest care is used in stowing, to make the shiphold as many hides as possible. It is no mean art, and a man skilledin it is an important character in California. Many a dispute have Iheard raging high between professed "beach-combers, " as to whether thehides should be stowed "shingling, " or "back-to-back, andflipper-to-flipper;" upon which point there was an entire and bitterdivision of sentiment among the savans. We adopted each method atdifferent periods of the stowing, and parties ran high in theforecastle, some siding with "old Bill" in favor of the former, andothers scouting him, and relying upon "English Bob" of the Ayacucho, who had been eight years in California, and was willing to risk hislife and limb for the latter method. At length a compromise waseffected, and a middle course, of shifting the ends and backs at everylay, was adopted, which worked well, and which, though they held itinferior to their own, each party granted was better than that of theother. 

Having filled the ship up, in this way, to within four feet of herbeams, the process of steeving commenced, by which an hundred hides aregot into a place where one could not be forced by hand, and whichpresses the hides to the utmost, sometimes starting the beams of theship, resembling in its effects the jack-screws which are used instowing cotton. Each morning we went ashore, and beat and brought offas many hides as we could steeve in the course of the day, and, afterbreakfast, went down into the hold, where we remained at work untilnight. The whole length of the hold, from stem to stern, was flooredoff level, and we began with raising a pile in the after part, hardagainst the bulkhead of the run, and filling it up to the beams, crowding in as many as we could by hand and pushing in with oars; whena large "book" was made of from twenty-five to fifty hides, doubled atthe backs, and put into one another, like the leaves of a book. Anopening was then made between two hides in the pile, and the back ofthe outside hide of the book inserted. Two long, heavy spars, calledsteeves, made of the strongest wood, and sharpened off like a wedge atone end, were placed with their wedge ends into the inside of the hidewhich was the centre of the book, and to the other end of each, strapswere fitted, into which large tackles were hooked, composed each of twohuge purchase blocks, one hooked to the strap on the end of the steeve, and the other into a dog, fastened into one of the beams, as far aft asit could be got. When this was arranged, and the ways greased uponwhich the book was to slide, the falls of the tackles were stretchedforward, and all hands tallied on, and bowsed away until the book waswell entered; when these tackles were nippered, straps and togglesclapped upon the falls, and two more luff tackles hooked on, with dogs, in the same manner; and thus, by luff upon luff, the power wasmultiplied, until into a pile in which one hide more could not becrowded by hand, an hundred or an hundred and fifty were often drivenin by this complication of purchases. When the last luff was hookedon, all hands were called to the rope--cook, steward, and all--andranging ourselves at the falls, one behind the other, sitting down onthe hides, with our heads just even with the beams, we set taught uponthe tackles, and striking up a song, and all lying back at the chorus, we bowsed the tackles home, and drove the large books chock in out ofsight. 

The sailor's songs for capstans and falls are of a peculiar kind, having a chorus at the end of each line. The burden is usually sung, by one alone, and, at the chorus, all hands join in, --and the louderthe noise, the better. With us, the chorus seemed almost to raise thedecks of the ship, and might be heard at a great distance, ashore. Asong is as necessary to sailors as the drum and fife to a soldier. They can't pull in time, or pull with a will, without it. Many a time, when a thing goes heavy, with one fellow yo-ho-ing, a lively song, like"Heave, to the girls!" "Nancy oh!" "Jack Cross-tree, " etc. , has putlife and strength into every arm. We often found a great difference inthe effect of the different songs in driving in the hides. Two orthree songs would be tried, one after the other; with no effect;--notan inch could be got upon the tackles--when a new song, struck up, seemed to hit the humor of the moment, and drove the tackles "twoblocks" at once. "Heave round hearty!" "Captain gone ashore!" and thelike, might do for common pulls, but in an emergency, when we wanted aheavy, "raise-the-dead" pull, which should start the beams of the ship, there was nothing like "Time for us to go!" "Round the corner, " or"Hurrah! hurrah! my hearty bullies!"

This was the most lively part of our work. A little boating and beachwork in the morning; then twenty or thirty men down in a close hold, where we were obliged to sit down and slide about, passing hides, androwsing about the great steeves, tackles, and dogs, singing out at thefalls, and seeing the ship filling up every day. The work was as hardas it could well be. There was not a moment's cessation from Mondaymorning till Saturday night, when we were generally beaten out, andglad to have a full night's rest, a wash and shift of clothes, and aquiet Sunday. During all this time, --which would have startled Dr. Graham--we lived upon almost nothing but fresh beef; fried beefsteaks, three times a day, --morning, noon, and night. At morning and night wehad a quart of tea to each man; and an allowance of about a pound ofhard bread a day; but our chief article of food was the beef. A mess, consisting of six men, had a large wooden kid piled up with beefsteaks, cut thick, and fried in fat, with the grease poured over them. Roundthis we sat, attacking it with our jack-knives and teeth, and with theappetite of young lions, and sent back an empty kid to the galley. This was done three times a day. How many pounds each man ate in aday, I will not attempt to compute. A whole bullock (we ate liver andall) lasted us but four days. Such devouring of flesh, I will ventureto say, was seldom known before. What one man ate in a day, over ahearty man's allowance, would make a Russian's heart leap into hismouth. Indeed, during all the time we were upon the coast, ourprincipal food was fresh beef, and every man had perfect health; butthis was a time of especial devouring; and what we should have donewithout meat, I cannot tell. Once or twice, when our bullocks failedand we were obliged to make a meal upon dry bread and water, it seemedlike feeding upon shavings. Light and dry, feeling unsatisfied, and, at the same time, full, we were glad to see four quarters of a bullock, just killed, swinging from the fore-top. Whatever theories may bestarted by sedentary men, certainly no men could have gone through morehard work and exposure for sixteen months in more perfect health, andwithout ailings and failings, than our ship's crew, let them have livedupon Hygeia's own baking and dressing. 

Friday, April 15th. Arrived, brig Pilgrim, from the windward. It was asad sight for her crew to see us getting ready to go off the coast, while they, who had been longer on the coast than the Alert, werecondemned to another year's hard service. I spent an evening on board, and found them making the best of the matter, and determined to roughit out as they might; but my friend S---- was determined to go home inthe ship, if money or interest could bring it to pass. Afterconsiderable negotiating and working, he succeeded in persuading myEnglish friend, Tom Harris, --my companion in the anchor watch--forthirty dollars, some clothes, and an intimation from Captain Fauconthat he should want a second mate before the voyage was up, to take hisplace in the brig as soon as she was ready to go up to windward. 

The first opportunity I could get to speak to Captain Faucon, I askedhim to step up to the oven and look at Hope, whom he knew well, havinghad him on board his vessel. He went to see him, but said that he hadso little medicine, and expected to be so long on the coast, that hecould do nothing for him, but that Captain Arthur would take care ofhim when he came down in the California, which would be in a week ormore. I had been to see Hope the first night after we got into SanDiego this last time, and had frequently since spent the early part ofa night in the oven. I hardly expected, when I left him to go towindward, to find him alive upon my return. He was certainly as low ashe could well be when I left him, and what would be the effect of themedicines that I gave him, I hardly then dared to conjecture. Yet Iknew that he must die without them. I was not a little rejoiced, therefore, and relieved, upon our return, to see him decidedly better. The medicines were strong, and took hold and gave a check to thedisorder which was destroying him; and, more than that, they had begunthe work of exterminating it. I shall never forget the gratitude thathe expressed. All the Kanakas attributed his escape solely to myknowledge, and would not be persuaded that I had not all the secrets ofthe physical system open to me and under my control. My medicines, however, were gone, and no more could be got from the ship, so that hislife was left to hang upon the arrival of the California. 

Sunday, April 24th. We had now been nearly seven weeks in San Diego, and had taken in the greater part of our cargo, and were looking out, every day, for the arrival of the California, which had our agent onboard; when, this afternoon, some Kanakas, who had been over the hillfor rabbits and to fight rattlesnakes, came running down the path, singing out, "Kail ho!" with all their might. Mr. H. , our third mate, was ashore, and asking them particularly about the size of the sail, etc. , and learning that it was "Moku--Nui Moku, " hailed our ship, andsaid that the California was on the other side of the point. Instantly, all hands were turned up, the bow guns run out and loaded, the ensign and broad pennant set, the yards squared by lifts andbraces, and everything got ready to make a good appearance. Theinstant she showed her nose round the point, we began our salute. Shecame in under top-gallant sails, clewed up and furled her sails in goodorder, and came-to, within good swinging distance of us. It beingSunday, and nothing to do, all hands were on the forecastle, criticising the new-comer. She was a good, substantial ship, not quiteso long as the Alert, and wall-sided and kettle-bottomed, after thelatest fashion of south-shore cotton and sugar wagons; strong, too, andtight, and a good average sailor, but with no pretensions to beauty, and nothing in the style of a "crack ship. " Upon the whole, we wereperfectly satisfied that the Alert might hold up her head with a shiptwice as smart as she. 

At night, some of us got a boat and went on board, and found a large, roomy forecastle, (for she was squarer forward than the Alert, ) and acrew of a dozen or fifteen men and boys, sitting around on theirchests, smoking and talking, and ready to give a welcome to any of ourship's company. It was just seven months since they left Boston, whichseemed but yesterday to us. Accordingly, we had much to ask, forthough we had seen the newspapers that she brought, yet these were thevery men who had been in Boston and seen everything with their owneyes. One of the green-hands was a Boston boy, from one of the publicschools, and, of course, knew many things which we wished to ask about, and on inquiring the names of our two Boston boys, found that they hadbeen schoolmates of his. Our men had hundreds of questions to askabout Ann street, the boarding-houses, the ships in port, the rate ofwages, and other matters. 

Among her crew were two English man-of-war's-men, so that, of course, we soon had music. They sang in the true sailor's style, and the restof the crew, which was a remarkably musical one, joined in thechoruses. They had many of the latest sailor songs, which had not yetgot about among our merchantmen, and which they were very choice of. They began soon after we came on board, and kept it up until after twobells, when the second mate came forward and called "the Alerts away!"Battle-songs, drinking-songs, boat-songs, love-songs, and everythingelse, they seemed to have a complete assortment of, and I was glad tofind that "All in the Downs, " "Poor Tom Bowline, " "The Bay of Biscay, ""List, ye Landsmen!" and all those classical songs of the sea, stillheld their places. In addition to these, they had picked up at thetheatres and other places a few songs of a little more genteel cast, which they were very proud of; and I shall never forget hearing an oldsalt, who had broken his voice by hard drinking on shore, and bellowingfrom the mast-head in a hundred northwesters, with all manner ofungovernable trills and quavers in the high notes, breaking into arough falsetto--and in the low ones, growling along like the dying awayof the boatswain's "all hands ahoy!" down the hatch-way, singing, "Oh, no, we never mention him. "

 "Perhaps, like me, he struggles with Each feeling of regret; But if he's loved as I have loved, He never can forget!"

The last line, being the conclusion, he roared out at the top of hisvoice, breaking each word up into half a dozen syllables. This was verypopular, and Jack was called upon every night to give them his"sentimental song. " No one called for it more loudly than I, for thecomplete absurdity of the execution, and the sailors' perfectsatisfaction in it, were ludicrous beyond measure. 

The next day, the California commenced unloading her cargo; and herboats' crews, in coming and going, sang their boat-songs, keeping timewith their oars. This they did all day long for several days, untiltheir hides were all discharged, when a gang of them were sent on boardthe Alert, to help us steeve our hides. This was a windfall for us, forthey had a set of new songs for the capstan and fall, and ours had gotnearly worn out by six weeks' constant use. I have no doubt that thistimely reinforcement of songs hastened our work several days. 

Our cargo was now nearly all taken in; and my old friend, the Pilgrim, having completed her discharge, unmoored, to set sail the next morningon another long trip to windward. I was just thinking of her hard lot, and congratulating myself upon my escape from her, when I received asummons into the cabin. I went aft, and there found, seated round thecabin table, my own captain, Captain Faucon of the Pilgrim, and Mr. R----, the agent. Captain T---- turned to me and asked abruptly--

"D----, do you want to go home in the ship?"

"Certainly, sir, " said I; "I expect to go home in the ship. "

"Then, " said he, "you must get some one to go in your place on boardthe Pilgrim. "

I was so completely "taken aback" by this sudden intimation, that for amoment I could make no reply. I knew that it would be hopeless toattempt to prevail upon any of the ship's crew to take twelve monthsmore upon the California in the brig. I knew, too, that Captain T----had received orders to bring me home in the Alert, and he had told me, when I was at the hide-house, that I was to go home in her; and even ifthis had not been so, it was cruel to give me no notice of the stepthey were going to take, until a few hours before the brig would sail. As soon as I had got my wits about me, I put on a bold front, and toldhim plainly that I had a letter in my chest informing me that he hadbeen written to, by the owners in Boston, to bring me home in the ship, and moreover, that he had told me that I was to go in the ship. 

To have this told him, and to be opposed in such a manner, was morethan my lord paramount had been used to. 

He turned fiercely upon me, and tried to look me down, and face me outof my statement; but finding that that wouldn't do, and that I wasentering upon my defence in such a way as would show to the other twothat he was in the wrong, --he changed his ground, and pointed to theshipping papers of the Pilgrim, from which my name had never beenerased, and said that there was my name, --that I belonged to her, --thathe had an absolute discretionary power, --and, in short, that I must beon board the Pilgrim by the next morning with my chest and hammock, orhave some one ready to go in my place, and that he would not hearanother word from me. No court or star chamber could proceed moresummarily with a poor devil, than this trio was about to do with me;condemning me to a punishment worse than a Botany Bay exile, and to afate which would alter the whole current of my future life; for twoyears more in California would have made me a sailor for the rest of mydays. I felt all this, and saw the necessity of being determined. Irepeated what I had said, and insisted upon my right to return in theship. 

 I "raised my arm, and tauld my crack, Before them a'. "

But it would have all availed me nothing, had I been "some poor body, "before this absolute, domineering tribunal. But they saw that I wouldnot go, unless "vi et armis, " and they knew that I had friends andinterest enough at home to make them suffer for any injustice theymight do me. It was probably this that turned the matter; for thecaptain changed his tone entirely, and asked me if, in case any onewent in my place, I would give him the same sum that S---- gave Harristo exchange with him. I told him that if any one was sent on board thebrig, I should pity him, and be willing to help him to that, or almostany amount; but would not speak of it as an exchange. 

"Very well, " said he. "Go forward about your business, and sendEnglish Ben here to me!"

I went forward with a light heart, but feeling as angry, and as muchcontempt as I could well contain between my teeth. English Ben wassent aft, and in a few moments came forward, looking as though he hadreceived his sentence to be hung. The captain had told him to get histhings ready to go on board the brig the next morning; and that I wouldgive him thirty dollars and a suit of clothes. The hands had "knockedoff" for dinner, and were standing about the forecastle, when Ben cameforward and told his story. I could see plainly that it made a greatexcitement, and that, unless I explained the matter to them, thefeeling would be turned against me. Ben was a poor English boy, astranger in Boston, and without friends or money; and being an active, willing lad, and a good sailor for his years, was a general favorite. "Oh, yes!" said the crew, "the captain has let you off, because you area gentleman's son, and have got friends, and know the owners; and takenBen, because he is poor, and has got nobody to say a word for him!" Iknew that this was too true to be answered, but I excused myself fromany blame, and told them that I had a right to go home, at all events. This pacified them a little, but Jack had got a notion that a poor ladwas to be imposed upon, and did not distinguish very clearly; andthough I knew that I was in no fault, and, in fact, had barely escapedthe grossest injustice, yet I felt that my berth was getting to be adisagreeable one. The notion that I was not "one of them, " which, by aparticipation in all their labor and hardships, and having no favorshown me, had been laid asleep, was beginning to revive. But farstronger than any feeling for myself, was the pity I felt for the poorlad. He had depended upon going home in the ship; and from Boston, wasgoing immediately to Liverpool, to see his friends. Beside this, having begun the voyage with very few clothes, he had taken up thegreater part of his wages in the slop-chest, and it was every day alosing concern to him; and, like all the rest of the crew, he had ahearty hatred of California, and the prospect of eighteen months or twoyears more of hide-droghing seemed completely to break down his spirit. I had determined not to go myself, happen what would, and I knew thatthe captain would not dare to attempt to force me. I knew, too, thatthe two captains had agreed together to get some one, and that unless Icould prevail upon somebody to go voluntarily, there would be no helpfor Ben. From this consideration, though I had said that I would havenothing to do with an exchange, I did my best to get some one to govoluntarily. I offered to give an order upon the owners in Boston forsix months' wages, and also all the clothes, books, and other matters, which I should not want upon the voyage home. When this offer waspublished in the ship, and the case of poor Ben was set forth in strongcolors, several, who would not have dreamed of going themselves, werebusy in talking it up to others, who, they thought, might be tempted toaccept it; and, at length, one fellow, a harum-scarum lad, whom wecalled Harry Bluff, and who did not care what country or ship he wasin, if he had clothes enough and money enough--partly from pity forBen, and partly from the thought he should have "cruising money" forthe rest of his stay, --came forward, and offered to go and "sling hishammock in the bloody hooker. " Lest his purpose should cool, I signedan order for the sum upon the owners in Boston, gave him all theclothes I could spare, and sent him aft to the captain, to let him knowwhat had been done. The skipper accepted the exchange, and was, doubtless, glad to have it pass off so easily. At the same time hecashed the order, which was endorsed to him, [1] and the next morning, the lad went aboard the brig, apparently in good spirits, having shakenhands with each of us and wished us a pleasant passage home, jinglingthe money in his pockets, and calling out, "Never say die, whilethere's a shot in the locker. " The same boat carried off Harris, myold watchmate, who had previously made an exchange with my friend S----. 

I was sorry to part with Harris. Nearly two hundred hours (as we hadcalculated it) had we walked the ship's deck together, at anchor watch, when all hands were below, and talked over and over every subject whichcame within the ken of either of us. He gave me a strong gripe withhis hand; and I told him, if he came to Boston again, not to fail tofind me out, and let me see an old watchmate. The same boat brought onboard S----, my friend, who had begun the voyage with me from Boston, and, like me, was going back to his family and to the society which wehad been born and brought up in. We congratulated one another uponfinding what we had long talked over and wished for, thus broughtabout; and none on board the ship were more glad than ourselves to seethe old brig standing round the point, under full sail. As she passedabreast of us, we all collected in the waist, and gave her three loud, hearty cheers, waving our hats in the air. Her crew sprang into therigging and chains, answered us with three as loud, to which we, afterthe nautical custom, gave one in return. I took my last look of theirfamiliar faces as they got over the rail, and saw the old black cookput his head out of the galley, and wave his cap over his head. Thecrew flew aloft to loose the top-gallant sails and royals; the twocaptains waved their hands to one another; and, in ten minutes, we sawthe last inch of her white canvas, as she rounded the point. 

Relieved as I was to see her well off, (and I felt like one who hadjust sprung from an iron trap which was closing upon him) I had yet afeeling of regret at taking the last look at the old craft in which Ihad spent a year, and the first year, of my sailor's life--which hadbeen my first home in the new world into which I had entered--and withwhich I had associated so many things, --my first leaving home, my firstcrossing the equator, Cape Horn, Juan Fernandez, death at sea, andother things, serious and common. Yet, with all this, and the feelingI had for my old shipmates, condemned to another term of Californialife, the thought that we were done with it, and that one week morewould see us on our way to Boston, was a cure for everything. 

Friday, May 6th, completed the taking of our cargo, and was a memorableday in our calendar. The time when we were to take in our last hide, we had looked forward to, for sixteen months, as the first bright spot. When the last hide was stowed away, and the hatches calked down, thetarpaulins battened on to them, the long-boat hoisted in and secured, and the decks swept down for the night, --the chief mate sprang upon thetop of the long-boat, called all hands into the waist, and giving us asignal by swinging his cap over his head, --we gave three long, loudcheers, which came from the bottom of our hearts, and made the hillsand valleys ring again. In a moment, we heard three, in answer, fromthe California's crew, who had seen us taking in our long-boat, and--"the cry they heard--its meaning knew. "

The last week, we had been occupied in taking in a supply of wood andwater for the passage home, and bringing on board the spare spars, sails, etc. I was sent off with a party of Indians to fill thewater-casks, at a spring, about three miles from the shipping, and nearthe town, and was absent three days, living at the town, and spendingthe daytime in filling the casks and transporting them on ox-carts tothe landing-place, whence they were taken on board by the crew withboats. This being all done with, we gave one day to bending our sails;and at night, every sail, from the courses to the skysails, was bent, and every studding-sail ready for setting. 

Before our sailing, an unsuccessful attempt was made by one of the crewof the California to effect an exchange with one of our number. It wasa lad, between fifteen and sixteen years of age, who went by the nameof the "reefer, " having been a midshipman in an East India Company'sship. His singular character and story had excited our interest eversince the ship came into the port. He was a delicate, slender littlefellow, with a beautiful pearly complexion, regular features, foreheadas white as marble, black haired, curling beautifully, rounded, tapering, delicate fingers, small feet, soft voice, gentle manners, and, in fact, every sign of having been well born and bred. At thesame time there was something in his expression which showed a slightdeficiency of intellect. How great the deficiency was, or what itresulted from; whether he was born so; whether it was the result ofdisease or accident; or whether, as some said, it was brought on by hisdistress of mind, during the voyage, I cannot say. From his ownaccount of himself, and from many circumstances which were known inconnection with his story, he must have been the son of a man ofwealth. His mother was an Italian woman. He was probably a naturalson, for in scarcely any other way could the incidents of his earlylife be accounted for. He said that his parents did not live together, and he seemed to have been ill treated by his father. Though he hadbeen delicately brought up, and indulged in every way, (and he had thenwith him trinkets which had been given him at home, ) yet his educationhad been sadly neglected; and when only twelve years old, he was sentas midshipman in the Company's service. His own story was, that heafterwards ran away from home, upon a difficulty which he had with hisfather, and went to Liverpool, whence he sailed in the ship Rialto, Captain Holmes, for Boston. Captain Holmes endeavored to get him apassage back, but there being no vessel to sail for some time, the boyleft him, and went to board at a common sailor's boarding-house, in Annstreet, where he supported himself for a few weeks by selling some ofhis valuables. At length, according to his own account, being desirousof returning home, he went to a shipping-office, where the shippingarticles of the California were open. Upon asking where the ship wasgoing, he was told by the shipping-master that she was bound toCalifornia. Not knowing where that was, he told him that he wanted togo to Europe, and asked if California was in Europe. Theshipping-master answered him in a way which the boy did not understand, and advised him to ship. The boy signed the articles, received hisadvance, laid out a little of it in clothes, and spent the rest, andwas ready to go on board, when, upon the morning of sailing, he heardthat the ship was bound upon the North-west Coast, on a two or threeyears' voyage, and was not going to Europe. Frightened at thisprospect, he slipped away when the crew was going aboard, wandered upinto another part of the town, and spent all the forenoon in strayingabout the common, and the neighboring streets. 

Having no money, and all his clothes and other things being in thechest, on board, and being a stranger, he became tired and hungry, andventured down toward the shipping, to see if the vessel had sailed. Hewas just turning the corner of a street, when the shipping-master, whohad been in search of him, popped upon him, seized him, and carried himon board. He cried and struggled, and said he did not wish to go inthe ship, but the topsails were at the mast-head, the fasts just readyto be cast off, and everything in the hurry and confusion of departure, so that he was hardly noticed; and the few who did inquire about thematter were told that it was merely a boy who had spent his advance andtried to run away. Had the owners of the vessel known anything of thematter, they would have interfered at once; but they either knewnothing of it, or heard, like the rest, that it was only an unruly boywho was sick of his bargain. As soon as the boy found himself actuallyat sea, and upon a voyage of two or three years in length, his spiritsfailed him; he refused to work, and became so miserable, that CaptainArthur took him into the cabin, where he assisted the steward, andoccasionally pulled and hauled about decks. He was in this capacitywhen we saw him; and though it was much better for him than the life inthe forecastle, and the hard work, watching, and exposure, which hisdelicate frame could not have borne, yet, to be joined with a blackfellow in waiting upon a man whom he probably looked upon as butlittle, in point of education and manners, above one of his father'sservants, was almost too much for his spirit to bear. Had he enteredupon his situation of his own free will, he could have endured it; butto have been deceived, and, in addition to that, forced into it, wasintolerable. He made every effort to go home in our ship, but hiscaptain refused to part with him except in the way of exchange, andthat he could not effect. If this account of the whole matter, whichwe had from the boy, and which was confirmed by all the crew, becorrect, I cannot understand why Captain Arthur should have refused tolet him go, especially being a captain who had the name, not only withthat crew, but with all whom he had ever commanded, of an unusuallykind-hearted man. 

The truth is, the unlimited power which merchant captains have, uponlong voyages on strange coasts, takes away a sense of responsibility, and too often, even in men otherwise well-disposed, substitutes adisregard for the rights and feelings of others. The lad was sent onshore to join the gang at the hide-house; from whence, I was afterwardsrejoiced to hear, he effected his escape, and went down to Callao in asmall Spanish schooner; and from Callao, he probably returned toEngland. 

Soon after the arrival of the California, I spoke to Captain Arthurabout Hope; and as he had known him on the voyage before, and was veryfond of him, he immediately went to see him, gave him proper medicines, and, under such care, he began rapidly to recover. The Saturday nightbefore our sailing, I spent an hour in the oven, and took leave of myKanaka friends; and, really, this was the only thing connected withleaving California which was in any way unpleasant. I felt an interestand affection for many of these simple, true-hearted men, such as Inever felt before but for a near relation. Hope shook me by the hand, said he should soon be well again, and ready to work for me when I cameupon the coast, next voyage, as officer of the ship; and told me not toforget, when I became captain, how to be kind to the sick. Old "Mr. Bingham" and "King Mannini" went down to the boat with me, shook meheartily by the hand, wished us a good voyage, and went back to theoven, chanting one of their deep monotonous songs, the burden of whichI gathered to be about us and our voyage. 

Sunday, May 8th. This promised to be our last day in California. 

Our forty thousand hides, thirty thousand horns, besides severalbarrels of otter and beaver skins, were all stowed below, and thehatches calked down. All our spare spars were taken on board andlashed; our water-casks secured; and our live stock, consisting of fourbullocks, a dozen sheep, a dozen or more pigs, and three or four dozenof poultry, were all stowed away in their different quarters: thebullocks in the long-boat, the sheep in a pen on the fore-hatch, andthe pigs in a sty under the bows of the long-boat, and the poultry intheir proper coop; and the jolly-boat was full of hay for the sheep andbullocks. Our unusually large cargo, together with the stores for afive months' voyage, brought the ship channels down into the water. Inaddition to this, she had been steeved so thoroughly, and was so boundby the compression of her cargo, forced into her by so powerfulmachinery, that she was like a man in a straight-jacket, and would bebut a dull sailer, until she had worked herself loose. 

The California had finished discharging her cargo, and was to get underweigh at the same time with us. Having washed down decks and got ourbreakfast, the two vessels lay side by side, in complete readiness forsea, our ensigns hanging from the peaks, and our tall spars reflectedfrom the glassy surface of the river, which, since sunrise, had beenunbroken by a ripple. At length, a few whiffs came across the water, and, by eleven o'clock, the regular north-west wind set steadily in. There was no need of calling all hands, for we had all been hangingabout the forecastle the whole forenoon, and were ready for a startupon the first sign of a breeze. 

All eyes were aft upon the captain, who was walking the deck, with, every now and then, a look to windward. He made a sign to the mate, who came forward, took his station, deliberately between theknight-heads, cast a glance aloft, and called out, "All hands, layaloft and loose the sails!" We were half in the rigging before theorder came, and never since we left Boston were the gaskets off theyards, and the rigging overhauled, in a shorter time. "All readyforward, sir!"--"All ready the main!"--"Cross-jack yards all ready, sir!"--"Lay down, all hands but one on each yard!" The yard-arm andbunt gaskets were cast off; and each sail hung by the jigger, with oneman standing by the tie to let it go. At the same moment that wesprang aloft, a dozen hands sprang into the rigging of the California, and in an instant were all over her yards; and her sails, too, wereready to be dropped at the word. In the mean time our bow gun had beenloaded and run out, and its discharge was to be the signal for droppingsails. A cloud of smoke came out of our bows; the echoes of the gunrattled our farewell among the hills of California; and the two shipswere covered, from head to foot, with their white canvas. For a fewminutes, all was uproar and apparent confusion: men flying about likemonkeys in the rigging; ropes and blocks flying; orders given andanswered, and the confused noises of men singing out at the ropes. Thetop-sails came to the mast-heads with "Cheerily, men!" and, in a fewminutes, every sail was set; for the wind was light. The head sailswere backed, the windlass came round "slip-slap" to the cry of thesailors;--"Hove short, sir, " said the mate;--"Up with him!"--"Aye, aye, sir. "--A few hearty and long heaves, and the anchor showed its head. "Hook cat!"--The fall was stretched along the decks; all hands laidhold;--"Hurrah, for the last time, " said the mate; and the anchor cameto the cat-head to the tune of "Time for us to go, " with a loud chorus. Everything was done quick, as though it were for the last time. Thehead yards were filled away, and our ship began to move through thewater on her homeward-bound course. 

The California had got under weigh at the same moment; and we saileddown the narrow bay abreast and were just off the mouth, and findingourselves gradually shooting ahead of her, were on the point of givingher three parting cheers, when, suddenly, we found ourselves stoppedshort, and the California ranging fast ahead of us. A bar stretchesacross the mouth of the harbor, with water enough to float commonvessels, but, being low in the water, and having kept well to leeward, as we were bound to the southward, we had stuck fast, while theCalifornia, being light, had floated over. 

We kept all sail on, in the hope of forcing over, but failing in this, we hove aback, and lay waiting for the tide, which was on the flood, totake us back into the channel. This was somewhat of a damper to us, and the captain looked not a little mortified and vexed. "This is thesame place where the Rosa got ashore, " observed the redheaded secondmate, most mal-a-propos. A malediction on the Rosa, and him too, wasall the answer he got, and he slunk off to leeward. In a few minutes, the force of the wind and the rising of the tide backed us into thestream, and we were on our way to our old anchoring-place, the tidesetting swiftly up, and the ship barely manageable, in the lightbreeze. We came-to, in our old berth, opposite the hide-house, whoseinmates were not a little surprised to see us return. We felt asthough we were tied to California; and some of the crew swore that theynever should get clear of the bloody coast. 

In about half an hour, which was near high water, the order was givento man the windlass, and again the anchor was catted; but not a wordwas said about the last time. The California had come back on findingthat we had returned, and was hove-to, waiting for us, off the point. This time we passed the bar safely, and were soon up with theCalifornia, who filled away, and kept us company. 

She seemed desirous of a trial of speed, and our captain accepted thechallenge, although we were loaded down to the bolts of our chainplates, as deep as a sand-barge, and bound so taught with our cargothat we were no more fit for a race than a man in fetters;--while ourantagonist was in her best trim. Being clear of the point, the breezebecame stiff, and the royal masts bent under our sails, but we wouldnot take them in until we saw three boys spring aloft into the riggingof the California; when they were all furled at once, but with ordersto stay aloft at the top-gallant mastheads, and loose them again at theword. It was my duty to furl the fore royal; and while standing by toloose it again, I had a fine view of the scene. From where I stood, the two vessels seemed nothing but spars and sails, while their narrowdecks, far below, slanting over by the force of the wind aloft, appeared hardly capable of supporting the great fabrics raised uponthem. The California was to windward of us, and had every advantage;yet, while the breeze was stiff, we held our own. As soon as it beganto slacken, she ranged a little ahead, and the order was given to loosethe royals. In an instant the gaskets were off and the bunt dropped. "Sheet home the fore royal!--Weather sheet's home!"--"Hoist away, sir!"is bawled from aloft. "Overhaul your clew-lines!" shouts the mate. "Aye, aye, sir, all clear!"--"Taught leech! belay! Well the lee brace;haul taught to windward"--and the royals are set. These brought us upagain; but the wind continuing light, the California set hers, and itwas soon evident that she was walking away from us. Our captain thenhailed, and said that he should keep off to his course; adding--"Sheisn't the Alert now. If I had her in your trim, she would have beenout of sight by this time. " This was good-naturedly answered from theCalifornia, and she braced sharp up, and stood close upon the wind upthe coast; while we squared away our yards, and stood before the windto the south-south-west. The California's crew manned her weatherrigging, waved their hats in the air, and gave up three hearty cheers, which we answered as heartily, and the customary single cheer came backto us from over the water. She stood on her way, doomed to eighteenmonths' or two years' hard service upon that hated coast, while we weremaking our way to our home, to which every hour and every mile wasbringing us nearer. 

As soon as we parted company with the California, all hands were sentaloft to set the studding-sails. Booms were rigged out, tacks andhalyards rove, sail after sail packed upon her, until every availableinch of canvas was spread, that we might not lose a breath of the fairwind. We could now see how much she was cramped and deadened by hercargo; for with a good breeze on her quarter, and every stitch ofcanvas spread, we could not get more than six knots out of her. Shehad no more life in her than if she were water-logged. The log washove several times; but she was doing her best. We had hardly patiencewith her, but the older sailors said--"Stand by! you'll see her workherself loose in a week or two, and then she'll walk up to Cape Hornlike a race-horse. "

When all sail had been set, and the decks cleared up, the Californiawas a speck in the horizon, and the coast lay like a low cloud alongthe north-east. At sunset they were both out of sight, and we wereonce more upon the ocean where sky and water meet. 

[1] When the crew were paid off in Boston, the owners answered theorder, but generously refused to deduct the amount from the pay-roll, saying that the exchange was made under compulsion. They also allowedS---- his exchange money. 

CHAPTER XXX

BEGINNING THE LONG RETURN VOYAGE--A SCARE

At eight o'clock all hands were called aft, and the watches set for thevoyage. Some changes were made; but I was glad to find myself still inthe larboard watch. Our crew was somewhat diminished; for a man and aboy had gone in the Pilgrim; another was second mate of the Ayacucho;and a third, the oldest man of the crew, had broken down under the hardwork and constant exposure on the coast, and, having had a stroke ofthe palsy, was left behind at the hide-house under the charge ofCaptain Arthur. The poor fellow wished very much to come home in theship; and he ought to have been brought home in her. But a live dog isbetter than a dead lion, and a sick sailor belongs to nobody's mess; sohe was sent ashore with the rest of the lumber, which was only in theway. By these diminutions, we were short-handed for a voyage round CapeHorn in the dead of winter. Besides S---- and myself, there were onlyfive in the forecastle; who, together with four boys in the steerage, the sailmaker, carpenter, etc. , composed the whole crew. In additionto this, we were only three or four days out, when the sailmaker, whowas the oldest and best seaman on board, was taken with the palsy, andwas useless for the rest of the voyage. The constant wading in thewater, in all weathers, to take off hides, together with the otherlabors, is too much for old men, and for any who have not goodconstitutions. Beside these two men of ours, the second officer of theCalifornia and the carpenter of the Pilgrim broke down under the work, and the latter died at Santa Barbara. The young man, too, who came outwith us from Boston in the Pilgrim, had to be taken from his berthbefore the mast and made clerk, on account of a fit of rheumatism whichattacked him soon after he came upon the coast. By the loss of thesailmaker, our watch was reduced to five, of whom two were boys, whonever steered but in fine weather, so that the other two and myself hadto stand at the wheel four hours apiece out of every twenty-four; andthe other watch had only four helmsmen. "Never mind--we're homewardbound!" was the answer to everything; and we should not have mindedthis, were it not for the thought that we should be off Cape Horn inthe very dead of winter. It was now the first part of May; and twomonths would bring us off the cape in July, which is the worst month inthe year there; when the sun rises at nine and sets at three, givingeighteen hours night, and there is snow and rain, gales and high seas, in abundance. 

The prospect of meeting this in a ship half manned, and loaded so deepthat every heavy sea must wash her fore and aft, was by no meanspleasant. The Alert, in her passage out, doubled the Cape in the monthof February, which is midsummer; and we came round in the Pilgrim inthe latter part of October, which we thought was bad enough. There wasonly one of our crew who had been off there in the winter, and that wasin a whaleship, much lighter and higher than our ship; yet he said theyhad man-killing weather for twenty days without intermission, and theirdecks were swept twice, and they were all glad enough to see the lastof it. The Brandywine frigate, also, in her passage round, had sixtydays off the Cape, and lost several boats by the heavy sea. All thiswas for our comfort; yet pass it we must; and all hands agreed to makethe best of it. 

During our watches below we overhauled our clothes, and made and mendedeverything for bad weather. Each of us had made for himself a suit ofoil-cloth or tarpaulin, and these we got out, and gave thoroughcoatings of oil or tar, and hung upon the stays to dry. 

Our stout boots, too, we covered over with a thick mixture of meltedgrease and tar, and hung out to dry. Thus we took advantage of thewarm sun and fine weather of the Pacific to prepare for its other face. In the forenoon watches below, our forecastle looked like the workshopof what a sailor is, --a Jack at all trades. Thick stockings anddrawers were darned and patched; mittens dragged from the bottom of thechest and mended; comforters made for the neck and ears; old flannelshirts cut up to line monkey jackets; south-westers lined with flannel, and a pot of paint smuggled forward to give them a coat on the outside;and everything turned to hand; so that, although two years had left usbut a scanty wardrobe, yet the economy and invention which necessityteaches a sailor, soon put each of us in pretty good trim for badweather, even before we had seen the last of the fine. Even thecobbler's art was not out of place. Several old shoes were verydecently repaired, and with waxed ends, an awl, and the top of an oldboot, I made me quite a respectable sheath for my knife. 

There was one difficulty, however, which nothing that we could do wouldremedy; and that was the leaking of the forecastle, which made it veryuncomfortable in bad weather, and rendered half of the berthstenantless. The tightest ships, in a long voyage, from the constantstrain which is upon the bowsprit, will leak, more or less, round theheel of the bowsprit, and the bitts, which come down into theforecastle; but, in addition to this, we had an unaccountable leak onthe starboard bow, near the cat-head, which drove us from the forwardberths on that side, and, indeed, when she was on the starboard tack, from all the forward berths. One of the after berths, too, leaked invery bad weather; so that in a ship which was in other respects astight as a bottle, and brought her cargo to Boston perfectly dry, wehad, after every effort made to prevent it, in the way of caulking andleading, a forecastle with only three dry berths for seven of us. However, as there is never but one watch below at a time, by 'turningin and out, ' we did pretty well. And there being, in our watch, butthree of us who lived forward, we generally had a dry berth apiece inbad weather. [1]

All this, however, was but anticipation. We were still in fine weatherin the North Pacific, running down the north-east trades, which we tookon the second day after leaving San Diego. 

Sunday, May 15th, one week out, we were in latitude 14° 56' N. , long. 116° 14' W. , having gone, by reckoning, over thirteen hundred miles inseven days. In fact, ever since leaving San Diego, we had had a fairwind, and as much as we wanted of it. For seven days, our lower andtopmast studding-sails were set all the time, and our royals andtop-gallant studding-sails, whenever she could stagger under them. Indeed, the captain had shown, from the moment we got to sea, that hewas to have no boy's play, but that the ship had got to carry all shecould, and that he was going to make up, by "cracking on" to her, whatshe wanted in lightness. In this way, we frequently made three degreesof latitude, besides something in longitude, in the course oftwenty-four hours. --Our days were spent in the usual ship's work. Therigging which had become slack from being long in port was to be setup; breast backstays got up; studding-sail booms rigged upon the mainyard; and the royal studding-sails got ready for the light trades;ring-tail set; and new rigging fitted and sails got ready for CapeHorn. For, with a ship's gear, as well as a sailor's wardrobe, fineweather must be improved to get ready for the bad to come. Ourforenoon watch below, as I have said, was given to our own work, andour night watches were spent in the usual manner:--a trick at thewheel, a look-out on the forecastle, a nap on a coil of rigging underthe lee of the rail; a yarn round the windlass-end; or, as wasgenerally my way, a solitary walk fore and aft, in the weather waist, between the windlass-end and the main tack. Every wave that she threwaside brought us nearer home, and every day's observation at noonshowed a progress which, if it continued, would in less than fivemonths, take us into Boston Bay. This is the pleasure of life atsea, --fine weather, day after day, without interruption, --fair wind, and a plenty of it, --and homeward bound. Every one was in good humor;things went right; and all was done with a will. At the dog watch, allhands came on deck, and stood round the weather side of the forecastle, or sat upon the windlass, and sung sea songs, and those ballads ofpirates and highwaymen, which sailors delight in. Home, too, and whatwe should do when we got there, and when and how we should arrive, wasno infrequent topic. Every night, after the kids and pots were putaway, and we had lighted our pipes and cigars at the galley, andgathered about the windlass, the first question was, --

"Well, Tom, what was the latitude to-day?"

"Why fourteen, north, and she has been going seven knots ever since. "

"Well, this will bring us up to the line in five days. "

"Yes, but these trades won't last twenty-four hours longer, " says anold salt, pointing with the sharp of his hand to leeward, --"I know thatby the look of the clouds. "

Then came all manner of calculations and conjectures as to thecontinuance of the wind, the weather under the line, the south-easttrades, etc. , and rough guesses as to the time the ship would be upwith the Horn; and some, more venturous, gave her so many days toBoston light, and offered to bet that she would not exceed it. 

"You'd better wait till you get round Cape Horn, " says an old croaker. 

"Yes, " says another, "you may see Boston, but you've got to 'smellhell' before that good day. "

Rumors also of what had been said in the cabin, as usual, found theirway forward. The steward had heard the captain say something about thestraits of Magellan, and the man at the wheel fancied he had heard himtell the "passenger" that, if he found the wind ahead and the weathervery bad off the Cape, he should stick her off for New Holland, andcome home round the Cape of Good Hope. 

This passenger--the first and only one we had had, except to go fromport to port, on the coast, was no one else than a gentleman whom I hadknown in my better days; and the last person I should have expected tohave seen on the coast of California--Professor N----, of Cambridge. Ihad left him quietly seated in the chair of Botany and Ornithology, inHarvard University; and the next I saw of him, was strolling about SanDiego beach, in a sailor's pea-jacket, with a wide straw hat, andbarefooted, with his trowsers roiled up to his knees, picking up stonesand shells. He had travelled overland to the North-west Coast, and comedown in a small vessel to Monterey. There he learned that there was aship at the leeward, about to sail for Boston; and, taking passage inthe Pilgrim, which was then at Monterey, he came slowly down, visitingthe intermediate ports, and examining the trees, plants, earths, birds, etc. , and joined us at San Diego shortly before we sailed. The secondmate of the Pilgrim told me that they had an old gentleman on board whoknew me, and came from the college that I had been in. 

He could not recollect his name, but said he was a "sort of an oldishman, " with white hair, and spent all his time in the bush, and alongthe beach, picking up flowers and shells, and such truck, and had adozen boxes and barrels, full of them. I thought over everybody whowould be likely to be there, but could fix upon no one; when, the nextday, just as we were about to shove off from the beach, he came down tothe boat, in the rig I have described, with his shoes in his hand, andhis pockets full of specimens. I knew him at once, though I should nothave been more surprised to have seen the Old South steeple shoot upfrom the hide-house. He probably had no less difficulty in recognizingme. As we left home about the same time, we had nothing to tell oneanother; and, owing to our different situations on board, I saw butlittle of him on the passage home. Sometimes, when I was at the wheelof a calm night, and the steering required no attention, and theofficer of the watch was forward, he would come aft and hold a shortyarn with me; but this was against the rules of the ship, as is, infact, all intercourse between passengers and the crew. I was oftenamused to see the sailors puzzled to know what to make of him, and tohear their conjectures about him and his business. They were as muchpuzzled as our old sailmaker was with the captain's instruments in thecabin. 

He said there were three:--the chro-nometer, the chre-nometer, and thethe-nometer. (Chronometer, barometer, and thermometer. ) The Pilgrim'screw christened Mr. N. "Old Curious, " from his zeal for curiosities, and some of them said that he was crazy, and that his friends let himgo about and amuse himself in this way. Why else a rich man (sailorscall every man rich who does not work with his hands, and wears a longcoat and cravat) should leave a Christian country, and come to such aplace as California, to pick up shells and stones, they could notunderstand. One of them, however, an old salt, who had seen somethingmore of the world ashore, set all to rights, as he thought, --"Oh, 'vastthere!--You don't know anything about them craft. I've seen themcolleges, and know the ropes. They keep all such things forcur'osities, and study 'em, and have men a' purpose to go and get 'em. This old chap knows what he's about. He a'n't the child you take himfor. He'll carry all these things to the college, and if they arebetter than any that they have had before, he'll be head of thecollege. Then, by-and-by, somebody else will go after some more, andif they beat him, he'll have to go again, or else give up his berth. That's the way they do it. This old covey knows the ropes. He hasworked a traverse over 'em, and come 'way out here, where nobody's everbeen afore, and where they'll never think of coming. " This explanationsatisfied Jack; and as it raised Mr. N. 's credit for capacity, and wasnear enough to the truth for common purposes, I did not disturb it. 

With the exception of Mr. N. , we had no one on board but the regularship's company, and the live stock. Upon this, we had made aconsiderable inroad. We killed one of the bullocks every four days, sothat they did not last us up to the line. We, or, rather, they, thenbegan upon the sheep and the poultry, for these never come into Jack'smess. [2] The pigs were left for the latter part of the voyage, forthey are sailors, and can stand all weathers. We had an old sow onboard, the mother of a numerous progeny, who had been twice round theCape of Good Hope, and once round Cape Horn. The last time goinground, was very nearly her death. We heard her squealing and moaningone dark night, after it had been snowing and hailing for severalhours, and getting into the sty, we found her nearly frozen to death. We got some straw, an old sail, and other things, and wrapped her up ina corner of the sty, where she staid until we got into fine weatheragain. 

Wednesday, May 18th. Lat. 9° 54' N. , long. 113° 17' W. The north-easttrades had now left us, and we had the usual variable winds, whichprevail near the line, together with some rain. So long as we were inthese latitudes, we had but little rest in our watch on deck at night, for, as the winds were light and variable, and we could not lose abreath, we were all the watch bracing the yards, and taking in andmaking sail, and "humbugging" with our flying kites. A little puff ofwind on the larboard quarter, and then--"larboard fore braces!" andstudding-booms were rigged out, studding-sails set alow and aloft, theyards trimmed, and jibs and spanker in; when it would come as calm as aduck-pond, and the man at the wheel stand with the palm of his hand up, feeling for the wind. "Keep her off a little!" "All aback forward, sir!" cries a man from the forecastle. Down go the braces again; income the studding-sails, all in a mess, which half an hour won't setright; yards braced sharp up; and she's on the starboard tack, closehauled. 

The studding-sails must now be cleared away, and set up in the tops, and on the booms. By the time this is done, and you are looking outfor a soft plank for a nap, --"Lay aft here, and square in the headyards!" and the studding-sails are all set again on the starboard side. So it goes until it is eight bells, --call the watch, --heave thelog, --relieve the wheel, and go below the larboard watch. 

Sunday, May 22d. Lat. 5° 14' N. , long. 166° 45' W. We were now afortnight out, and within five degrees of the line, to which two daysof good breeze would take us; but we had, for the most part, whatsailors call "an Irishman's hurricane, --right up and down. "

This day it rained nearly all day, and being Sunday, and nothing to do, we stopped up the scuppers and filled the decks with rain water, andbringing all our clothes on deck, had a grand wash, fore and aft. Whenthis was through, we stripped to our drawers, and taking pieces of soapand strips of canvas for towels, we turned-to and soaped, washed, andscrubbed one another down, to get off, as we said, the California dust;for the common wash in salt water, which is all Jack can get, being onan allowance of fresh, had little efficacy, and was more for taste thanutility. The captain was below all the afternoon, and we had somethingnearer to a Saturnalia than anything we had yet seen; for the mate cameinto the scuppers, with a couple of boys to scrub him, and got into abattle with them in heaving water. By unplugging the holes, we let thesoap-suds off the decks, and in a short time had a new supply of rainwater, in which we had a grand rinsing. It was surprising to see howmuch soap and fresh water did for the complexions of many of us; howmuch of what we supposed to be tan and sea-blacking, we got rid of. The next day, the sun rising clear, the ship was covered, fore and aft, with clothes of all sorts, hanging out to dry. 

As we approached the line, the wind became more easterly, and theweather clearer, and in twenty days from San Diego, --

Saturday, May 28th, at about three P. M. , with a fine breeze from theeast-south-east, we crossed the equator. In twenty-four hours aftercrossing the line, which was very unusual, we took the regularsouth-east trades. These winds come a little from the eastward ofsouth-east, and, with us, they blew directly from the east-south-east, which was fortunate for us, for our course was south-by-west, and wecould thus go one point free. The yards were braced so that every saildrew, from the spanker to the flying-jib; and the upper yards beingsquared in a little, the fore and main top-gallant studding-sails wereset, and just drew handsomely. For twelve days this breeze blewsteadily, not varying a point, and just so fresh that we could carryour royals; and, during the whole time, we hardly started a brace. Such progress did we make, that at the end of seven days from the timewe took the breeze, on

Sunday, June 5th, we were in lat. 19° 29' S. , and long. 118° 01' W. , having made twelve hundred miles in seven days, very nearly upon ataught bowline. Our good ship was getting to be herself again, hadincreased her rate of sailing more than one-third since leaving SanDiego. The crew ceased complaining of her, and the officers hove thelog every two hours with evident satisfaction. This was glorioussailing. A steady breeze; the light trade-wind clouds over our heads;the incomparable temperature of the Pacific, --neither hot nor cold; aclear sun every day, and clear moon and stars each night; and newconstellations rising in the south, and the familiar ones sinking inthe north, as we went on our course, --"stemming nightly toward thepole. " Already we had sunk the north star and the Great Bear in thenorthern horizon, and all hands looked out sharp to the southward forthe Magellan Clouds, which, each succeeding night, we expected to make. "The next time we see the north star, " said one, "we shall be standingto the northward, the other side of the Horn. " This was true enough, and no doubt it would be a welcome sight; for sailors say that incoming home from round Cape Horn, and the Cape of Good Hope, the northstar is the first land you make. 

These trades were the same that, in the passage out in the Pilgrim, lasted nearly all the way from Juan Fernandez to the line; blowingsteadily on our starboard quarter for three weeks, without our startinga brace, or even brailing down the skysails. Though we had now thesame wind, and were in the same latitude with the Pilgrim on herpassage out, yet we were nearly twelve hundred miles to the westward ofher course; for the captain, depending upon the strong south-west windswhich prevail in high southern latitudes during the winter months, tookthe full advantage of the trades, and stood well to the westward, sofar that we passed within about two hundred miles of Ducie's Island. 

It was this weather and sailing that brought to my mind a littleincident that occurred on board the Pilgrim, while we were in the samelatitude. We were going along at a great rate, dead before the wind, with studding-sails out on both sides, alow and aloft, on a dark night, just after midnight, and everything was as still as the grave, exceptthe washing of the water by the vessel's side; for, being before thewind, with a smooth sea, the little brig, covered with canvas, wasdoing great business, with very little noise. The other watch wasbelow, and all our watch, except myself and the man at the wheel, wereasleep under the lee of the boat. The second mate, who came out beforethe mast, and was always very thick with me, had been holding a yarnwith me, and just gone aft to his place on the quarter-deck, and I hadresumed my usual walk to and from the windlass-end, when, suddenly, weheard a loud scream coming from ahead, apparently directly from underthe bows. The darkness, and complete stillness of the night, and thesolitude of the ocean, gave to the sound a dreadful and almostsupernatural effect. I stood perfectly still, and my heart beat quick. 

The sound woke up the rest of the watch, who stood looking at oneanother. "What, in the name of God, is that?" said the second mate, coming slowly forward. The first thought I had was, that it might be aboat, with the crew of some wrecked vessel, or perhaps the boat of somewhaleship, out over night, and we had run them down in the darkness. Another scream, but less loud than the first. This started us, and weran forward, and looked over the bows, and over the sides, to leeward, but nothing was to be seen or heard. What was to be done. Call thecaptain, and heave the ship aback? Just at this moment, in crossingthe forecastle, one of the men saw a light below, and looking down thescuttle, saw the watch all out of their berths, and afoul of one poorfellow, dragging him out of his berth, and shaking him, to wake him outof a nightmare. 

They had been waked out of their sleep, and as much alarmed at thescream as we were, and were hesitating whether to come on deck, whenthe second sound, coming directly from one of the berths, revealed thecause of the alarm. The fellow got a good shaking for the trouble hehad given. We made a joke of the matter and we could well laugh, forour minds were not a little relieved by its ridiculous termination. 

We were now close upon the southern tropical line, and, with so fine abreeze, were daily leaving the sun behind us, and drawing nearer toCape Horn, for which it behoved us to make every preparation. Ourrigging was all examined and overhauled, and mended, or replaced withnew, where it was necessary: new and strong bobstays fitted in theplace of the chain ones, which were worn out; the spritsail yard andmartingale guys and back-ropes set well taught; bran new fore and mainbraces rove; top-gallant sheets, and wheel-ropes, made of green hide, laid up in the form of rope, were stretched and fitted; and newtop-sail clewlines, etc. , rove; new fore-topmast back-stays fitted; andother preparations made, in good season, that the ropes might have timeto stretch and become limber before we got into cold weather. 

Sunday, June 12th. Lat. 26° 04' S. , 116° 31' W. We had now lost theregular trades, and had the winds variable, principally from thewestward, and kept on, in a southerly course, sailing very nearly upona meridian, and at the end of the week, Sunday, June 19th, were in lat. 34° 15' S. , and long. 116° 38' W. 

[1] On removing the cat-head, after the ship arrived at Boston, it wasfound that there were two holes under it which had been bored for thepurpose of driving tree-nails, and which, accidentally, had not beenplugged up when the cat-head was placed over them. This was sufficientto account for the leak, and for our not having been able to discoverand stop it. 

[2] The customs as to the allowance of "grub" are very nearly the samein all American merchantmen. Whenever a pig is killed, the sailorshave one mess from it. The rest goes to the cabin. The smaller livestock, poultry, etc. , they never taste. 

And, indeed, they do not complain of this, for it would take a greatdeal to supply them with a good meal, and without the accompaniments, (which could hardly be furnished to them, ) it would not be much betterthan salt beef. But even as to the salt beef, they are scarcely dealtfairly with; for whenever a barrel is opened, before any of the beef isput into the harness-cask, the steward comes up, and picks it all over, and takes out the best pieces, (those that have any fat in them) forthe cabin. 

This was done in both the vessels I was in, and the men said that itwas usual in other vessels. Indeed, it is made no secret, but some ofthe crew are usually called to help in assorting and putting away thepieces. By this arrangement the hard, dry pieces, which the sailorscall "old horse, " come to their share. 

There is a singular piece of rhyme, traditional among sailors, whichthey say over such pieces of beef. I do not know that it ever appearedin print before. When seated round the kid, if a particularly badpiece is found, one of them takes it up, and addressing it, repeatsthese lines: "Old horse! old horse! what brought you here?"

 --"From Sacarap to Portland pier I've carted stone this many a year: Till, killed by blows and sore abuse, They salted me down for sailors' use. 

 The sailors they do me despise: They turn me over and damn my eyes; Cut off my meat, and pick my bones, And pitch the rest to Davy Jones. "

There is a story current among seamen, that a beef-dealer wasconvicted, at Boston, of having sold old horse for ship's stores, instead of beef, and had been sentenced to be confined in jail, untilhe should eat the whole of it; and that he is now lying in Boston jail. I have heard this story often, on board other vessels beside those ofour own nation. It is very generally believed, and is always highlycommended, as a fair instance of retaliatory justice. 

CHAPTER XXXI

BAD PROSPECTS--FIRST TOUCH OF CAPE HORN--ICEBERGS--TEMPERANCESHIPS--LYING-UP--ICE--DIFFICULTY ON BOARD--CHANGE OF COURSE--STRAITS OFMAGELLAN

There now began to be a decided change in the appearance of things. Thedays became shorter and shorter; the sun running lower in its courseeach day, and giving less and less heat; and the nights so cold as toprevent our sleeping on deck; the Magellan Clouds in sight, of a clearnight; the skies looking cold and angry; and, at times, a long, heavy, ugly sea, setting in from the southwards told us what we were comingto. Still, however, we had a fine, strong breeze, and kept on our way, under as much sail as our ship would bear. Toward the middle of theweek, the wind hauled to the southward, which brought us upon a taughtbowline, made the ship meet, nearly head on, the heavy swell whichrolled from that direction; and there was something not at allencouraging in the manner in which she met it. Being so deep andheavy, she wanted the buoyancy which should have carried her over theseas, and she dropped heavily into them, the water washing over thedecks; and every now and then, when an unusually large sea met herfairly upon the bows, she struck it with a sound as dead and heavy asthat with which a sledge-hammer falls upon the pile, and took the wholeof it in upon the forecastle, and rising, carried it aft in thescuppers, washing the rigging off the pins, and carrying along with iteverything which was loose on deck. She had been acting in this wayall of our forenoon watch below; as we could tell by the washing of thewater over our heads, and the heavy breaking of the seas against herbows, (with a sound as though she were striking against a rock, ) onlythe thickness of the plank from our heads, as we lay in our berths, which are directly against the bows. At eight bells, the watch wascalled, and we came on deck, one hand going aft to take the wheel, andanother going to the galley to get the grub for dinner. I stood on theforecastle, looking at the seas, which were rolling high, as far as theeye could reach, their tops white with foam, and the body of them of adeep indigo blue, reflecting the bright rays of the sun. Our ship roseslowly over a few of the largest of them, until one immense fellow camerolling on, threatening to cover her, and which I was sailor enough toknow, by "the feeling of her" under my feet, she would not rise over. I sprang upon the knight-heads, and seizing hold of the fore-stay withmy hands, drew myself upon it. My feet were just off the stanchion, when she struck fairly into the middle of the sea, and it washed herfore and aft, burying her in the water. As soon as she rose out of it, I looked aft, and everything forward of the main-mast, except thelong-boat, which was griped and double-lashed down to the ring-bolts, was swept off clear. The galley, the pig-sty, the hen-coop, and alarge sheep-pen which had been built upon the forehatch, were all gone, in the twinkling of an eye--leaving the deck as clean as a chinnew-reaped--and not a stick left, to show where they had stood. In thescuppers lay the galley, bottom up, and a few boards floating about, the wreck of the sheep-pen, --and half a dozen miserable sheep floatingamong them, wet through, and not a little frightened at the suddenchange that had come upon them. As soon as the sea had washed by, allhands sprung out of the forecastle to see what had become of the shipand in a few moments the cook and old Bill crawled out from under thegalley, where they had been lying in the water, nearly smothered, withthe galley over them. Fortunately, it rested against the bulwarks, orit would have broken some of their bones. When the water ran off, wepicked the sheep up, and put them in the long-boat, got the galley backin its place, and set things a little to rights; but, had not our shiphad uncommonly high bulwarks and rail, everything must have been washedoverboard, not excepting Old Bill and the cook. 

Bill had been standing at the galley-door, with the kid of beef in hishand for the forecastle mess, when, away he went, kid, beef, and all. He held on to the kid till the last, like a good fellow, but the beefwas gone, and when the water had run off, we saw it lying high and dry, like a rock at low tide--nothing could hurt that. We took the loss ofour beef very easily, consoling ourselves with the recollection thatthe cabin had more to lose than we; and chuckled not a little at seeingthe remains of the chicken-pie and pan-cakes floating in the scuppers. "This will never do!" was what some said, and every one felt. Here wewere, not yet within a thousand miles of the latitude of Cape Horn, andour decks swept by a sea not one half so high as we must expect to findthere. Some blamed the captain for loading his ship so deep, when heknew what he must expect; while others said that the wind was alwayssouthwest, off the Cape, in the winter; and that, running before it, weshould not mind the seas so much. When we got down into theforecastle, Old Bill, who was somewhat of a croaker, --having met with agreat many accidents at sea--said that if that was the way she wasgoing to act, we might as well make our wills, and balance the books atonce, and put on a clean shirt. "'Vast there, you bloody old owl!You're always hanging out blue lights! You're frightened by theducking you got in the scuppers, and can't take a joke! What's the usein being always on the look-out for Davy Jones?" "Stand by!" saysanother, "and we'll get an afternoon watch below, by this scrape;" butin this they were disappointed, for at two bells, all hands were calledand set to work, getting lashings upon everything on deck; and thecaptain talked of sending down the long top-gallant masts; but, as thesea went down toward night, and the wind hauled abeam, we left themstanding, and set the studding-sails. 

The next day, all hands were turned-to upon unbending the old sails, and getting up the new ones; for a ship, unlike people on shore, putson her best suit in bad weather. The old sails were sent down, andthree new topsails, and new fore and main courses, jib, andfore-topmast staysail, which were made on the coast, and never had beenused, were bent, with a complete set of new earings, robands andreef-points; and reef-tackles were rove to the courses, andspilling-lines to the top-sails. These, with new braces and clew-lines, fore and aft, gave us a good suit of running rigging. 

The wind continued westerly, and the weather and sea less rough sincethe day on which we shipped the heavy sea, and we were making greatprogress under studding-sails, with our light sails all set, keeping alittle to the eastward of south; for the captain, depending uponwesterly winds off the Cape, had kept so far to the westward, thatthough we were within about five hundred miles of the latitude of CapeHorn, we were nearly seventeen hundred miles to the westward of it. Through the rest of the week, we continued on with a fair wind, gradually, as we got more to the southward, keeping a more easterlycourse, and bringing the wind on our larboard quarter, until--

Sunday, June 26th, when, having a fine, clear day, the captain got alunar observation, as well as his meridian altitude, which made us inlat. 47° 50' S. , long. 113° 49' W. ; Cape Horn bearing, according to mycalculation, E. S. E. 1/2 E. , and distant eighteen hundred miles. 

Monday, June 27th. During the first part of this day, the windcontinued fair, and, as we were going before it, it did not feel verycold, so that we kept at work on deck, in our common clothes and roundjackets. Our watch had an afternoon watch below, for the first timesince leaving San Diego, and having inquired of the third mate what thelatitude was at noon, and made our usual guesses as to the time shewould need, to be up with the Horn, we turned-in, for a nap. We weresleeping away "at the rates of knots, " when three knocks on thescuttle, and "All hands ahoy!" started us from our berths. What couldbe the matter? It did not appear to be blowing hard, and looking upthrough the scuttle, we could see that it was a clear day, overhead;yet the watch were taking in sail. 

We thought there must be a sail in sight, and that we were about toheave-to and speak her; and were just congratulating ourselves uponit--for we had seen neither sail nor land since we had left port--whenwe heard the mate's voice on deck, (he turned-in "all standing, " andwas always on deck the moment he was called, ) singing out to the menwho were taking in the studding-sails, and asking where his watch were. We did not wait for a second call, but tumbled up the ladder; andthere, on the starboard bow, was a bank of mist, covering sea and sky, and driving directly for us. I had seen the same before, in my passageround in the Pilgrim, and knew what it meant, and that there was notime to be lost. We had nothing on but thin clothes, yet there was nota moment to spare, and at it we went. 

The boys of the other watch were in the tops, taking in the top-gallantstudding-sails, and the lower and topmast studding-sails were comingdown by the run. It was nothing but "haul down and clew up, " until wegot all the studding-sails in, and the royals, flying-jib, and mizentop-gallant sail furled, and the ship kept off a little, to take thesquall. The fore and main top-gallant sails were still on her, for the"old man" did not mean to be frightened in broad daylight, and wasdetermined to carry sail till the last minute. 

We all stood waiting for its coming, when the first blast showed usthat it was not be trifled with. Rain, sleet, snow, and wind, enoughto take our breath from us, and make the toughest turn his back towindward! The ship lay nearly over on her beam-ends; the spars andrigging snapped and cracked; and her top-gallant masts bent likewhip-sticks. "Clew up the fore and main top-gallant sails!" shoutedthe captain, and all hands sprang to the clewlines. The decks werestanding nearly at an angle of forty-five degrees, and the ship goinglike a mad steed through the water, the whole forward part of her in asmother of foam. The halyards were let go and the yard clewed down, and the sheets started, and in a few minutes the sails smothered andkept in by clewlines and buntlines. --"Furl 'em, sir?" asked themate. --"Let go the topsail halyards, fore and aft!" shouted thecaptain, in answer, at the top of his voice. Down came the topsailyards, the reef-tackles were manned and hauled out, and we climbed upto windward, and sprang into the weather rigging. The violence of thewind, and the hail and sleet, driving nearly horizontally across theocean, seemed actually to pin us down to the rigging. It was hard workmaking head against them. One after another, we got out upon theyards. And here we had work to do; for our new sails, which had hardlybeen bent long enough to get the starch out of them, were as stiff asboards, and the new earings and reef-points, stiffened with the sleet, knotted like pieces of iron wire. Having only our round jackets andstraw hats on, we were soon wet through, and it was every momentgrowing colder. Our hands were soon stiffened and numbed, which, addedto the stiffness of everything else, kept us a good while on the yard. After we had got the sail hauled upon the yard, we had to wait a longtime for the weather earing to be passed; but there was no fault to befound, for French John was at the earing, and a better sailor neverlaid out on a yard; so we leaned over the yard, and beat our hands uponthe sail to keep them from freezing. At length the word came--"Haulout to leeward, "--and we seized the reef-points and hauled the bandtaught for the lee earing. "Taught band--Knot away, " and we got thefirst reef fast, and were just going to lay down, when--"Two reefs--tworeefs!" shouted the mate, and we had a second reef to take, in the sameway. When this was fast, we laid down on deck, manned the halyards toleeward, nearly up to our knees in water, set the topsail, and thenlaid aloft on the main topsail yard, and reefed that sail in the samemanner; for, as I have before stated, we were a good deal reduced innumbers, and, to make it worse, the carpenter, only two days before, cut his leg with an axe, so that he could not go aloft. This weakenedus so that we could not well manage more than one topsail at a time, insuch weather as this, and, of course, our labor was doubled. From themain topsail yard, we went upon the main yard, and took a reef in themainsail. No sooner had we got on deck, than--"Lay aloft there, mizen-top-men, and close-reef the mizen topsail!" This called me; andbeing nearest to the rigging, I got first aloft, and out to the weatherearing. English Ben was on the yard just after me, and took the leeearing, and the rest of our gang were soon on the yard, and began tofist the sail, when the mate considerately sent up the cook andsteward, to help us. I could now account for the long time it took topass the other earings, for, to do my best, with a strong hand to helpme at the dog's ear, I could not get it passed until I heard thembeginning to complain in the bunt. One reef after another we took in, until the sail was close-reefed, when we went down and hoisted away atthe halyards. In the mean time, the jib had been furled and thestaysail set, and the ship, under her reduced sail, had got moreupright and was under management; but the two top-gallant sails werestill hanging in the buntlines, and slatting and jerking as though theywould take the masts out of her. We gave a look aloft, and knew thatour work was not done yet; and, sure enough, no sooner did the mate seethat we were on deck, than--"Lay aloft there, four of you, and furl thetop-gallant sails!" This called me again, and two of us went aloft, upthe fore rigging, and two more up the main, upon the top-gallant yards. 

The shrouds were now iced over, the sleet having formed a crust or cakeround all the standing rigging, and on the weather side of the mastsand yards. When we got upon the yard, my hands were so numb that Icould not have cast off the knot of the gasket to have saved my life. We both lay over the yard for a few seconds, beating our hands upon thesail, until we started the blood into our fingers' ends, and at thenext moment our hands were in a burning heat. My companion on the yardwas a lad, who came out in the ship a weak, puny boy, from one of theBoston schools, --"no larger than a spritsail sheet knot, " nor "heavierthan a paper of lamp-black, " and "not strong enough to haul a shad offa gridiron, " but who was now "as long as a spare topmast, strong enoughto knock down an ox, and hearty enough to eat him. " We fisted the sailtogether, and after six or eight minutes of hard hauling and pullingand beating down the sail, which was as stiff as sheet iron, we managedto get it furled; and snugly furled it must be, for we knew the matewell enough to be certain that if it got adrift again, we should becalled up from our watch below, at any hour of the night, to furl it. 

I had been on the look-out for a moment to jump below and clap on athick jacket and south-wester; but when we got on deck we found thateight bells had been struck, and the other watch gone below, so thatthere were two hours of dog watch for us, and a plenty of work to do. It had now set in for a steady gale from the south-west; but we werenot yet far enough to the southward to make a fair wind of it, for wemust give Terra del Fuego a wide berth. The decks were covered withsnow, and there was a constant driving of sleet. In fact, Cape Horn hadset in with good earnest. In the midst of all this, and before itbecame dark, we had all the studding-sails to make up and stow away, and then to lay aloft and rig in all the booms, fore and aft, and coilaway the tacks, sheets, and halyards. This was pretty tough work forfour or five hands, in the face of a gale which almost took us off theyards, and with ropes so stiff with ice that it was almost impossibleto bend them. I was nearly half an hour out on the end of the foreyard, trying to coil away and stop down the topmast studding-sail tackand lower halyards. It was after dark when we got through, and we werenot a little pleased to hear four bells struck, which sent us below fortwo hours, and gave us each a pot of hot tea with our cold beef andbread, and, what was better yet, a suit of thick, dry clothing, fittedfor the weather, in place of our thin clothes, which were wet throughand now frozen stiff. 

This sudden turn, for which we were so little prepared, was asunacceptable to me as to any of the rest; for I had been troubled forseveral days with a slight tooth-ache, and this cold weather, andwetting and freezing, were not the best things in the world for it. 

I soon found that it was getting strong hold, and running over allparts of my face; and before the watch was out I went aft to the mate, who had charge of the medicine-chest, to get something for it. 

But the chest showed like the end of a long voyage, for there wasnothing that would answer but a few drops of laudanum, which must besaved for any emergency; so I had only to bear the pain as well as Icould. 

When we went on deck at eight bells, it had stopped snowing, and therewere a few stars out, but the clouds were still black, and it wasblowing a steady gale. Just before midnight, I went aloft and sentdown the mizen royal yard, and had the good luck to do it to thesatisfaction of the mate, who said it was done "out of hand andship-shape. " The next four hours below were but little relief to me, for I lay awake in my berth, the whole time, from the pain in my face, and heard every bell strike, and, at four o'clock, turned out with thewatch, feeling little spirit for the hard duties of the day. 

Bad weather and hard work at sea can be borne up against very well, ifone only has spirit and health; but there is nothing brings a man down, at such a time, like bodily pain and want of sleep. 

There was, however, too much to do to allow time to think; for the galeof yesterday, and the heavy seas we met with a few days before, whilewe had yet ten degrees more southing to make, had convinced the captainthat we had something before us which was not to be trifled with, andorders were given to send down the long top-gallant masts. Thetop-gallant and royal yards were accordingly struck, the flyingjib-boom rigged in, and the top-gallant masts sent down on deck, andall lashed together by the side of the long-boat. 

The rigging was then sent down and coiled away below, and everythingwas made snug aloft. There was not a sailor in the ship who was notrejoiced to see these sticks come down; for, so long as the yards werealoft, on the least sign of a lull, the top-gallant sails were loosed, and then we had to furl them again in a snow-squall, and shin up anddown single ropes caked with ice, and send royal yards down in theteeth of a gale coming right from the south pole. It was aninteresting sight, too, to see our noble ship, dismantled of all hertop-hamper of long tapering masts and yards, and boom pointed withspear-head, which ornamented her in port; and all that canvas, which afew days before had covered her like a cloud, from the truck to thewater's edge, spreading far out beyond her hull on either side, nowgone; and she, stripped, like a wrestler for the fight. Itcorresponded, too, with the desolate character of hersituation;--alone, as she was, battling with storms, wind, and ice, atthis extremity of the globe, and in almost constant night. 

Friday, July 1st. We were now nearly up to the latitude of Cape Horn, and having over forty degrees of easting to make, we squared away theyards before a strong westerly gale, shook a reef out of thefore-topsail, and stood on our way, east-by-south, with the prospect ofbeing up with the Cape in a week or ten days. As for myself, I had hadno sleep for forty-eight hours; and the want of rest, together withconstant wet and cold, had increased the swelling, so that my face wasnearly as large as two, and I found it impossible to get my mouth openwide enough to eat. In this state, the steward applied to the captainfor some rice to boil for me, but he only got a--"No! d--- you! Tellhim to eat salt junk and hard bread, like the rest of them. " For this, of course, I was much obliged to him, and in truth it was just what Iexpected. However, I did not starve, for the mate, who was a man aswell as a sailor, and had always been a good friend to me, smuggled apan of rice into the galley, and told the cook to boil it for me, andnot let the "old man" see it. Had it been fine weather, or in port, Ishould have gone below and lain by until my face got well; but in suchweather as this, and short-handed as we were, it was not for me todesert my post; so I kept on deck, and stood my watch and did my dutyas well as I could. 

Saturday, July 2nd. This day the sun rose fair, but it ran too low inthe heavens to give any heat, or thaw out our sails and rigging; yetthe sight of it was pleasant; and we had a steady "reef topsail breeze"from the westward. The atmosphere, which had previously been clear andcold, for the last few hours grew damp, and had a disagreeable, wetchilliness in it; and the man who came from the wheel said he heard thecaptain tell "the passenger" that the thermometer had fallen severaldegrees since morning, which he could not account for in any other waythan by supposing that there must be ice near us; though such a thinghad never been heard of in this latitude, at this season of the year. At twelve o'clock we went below, and had just got through dinner, whenthe cook put his head down the scuttle and told us to come on deck andsee the finest sight that we had ever seen. "Where away, cook?" askedthe first man who was up. "On the larboard bow. " And there lay, floating in the ocean, several miles off, an immense, irregular mass, its top and points covered with snow, and its center of a deep indigocolor. 

This was an iceberg, and of the largest size, as one of our men saidwho had been in the Northern ocean. As far as the eye could reach, thesea in every direction was of a deep blue color, the waves running highand fresh, and sparkling in the light, and in the midst lay thisimmense mountain-island, its cavities and valleys thrown into deepshade, and its points and pinnacles glittering in the sun. 

All hands were soon on deck, looking at it, and admiring in variousways its beauty and grandeur. But no description can give any idea ofthe strangeness, splendor, and, really, the sublimity, of the sight. 

Its great size;--for it must have been from two to three miles incircumference, and several hundred feet in height;--its slow motion, asits base rose and sank in the water, and its high points nodded againstthe clouds; the dashing of the waves upon it, which, breaking high withfoam, lined its base with a white crust; and the thundering sound ofthe cracking of the mass, and the breaking and tumbling down of hugepieces; together with its nearness and approach, which added a slightelement of fear, --all combined to give to it the character of truesublimity. The main body of the mass was, as I have said, of an indigocolor, its base crusted with frozen foam; and as it grew thin andtransparent toward the edges and top, its color shaded off from a deepblue to the whiteness of snow. 

It seemed to be drifting slowly toward the north, so that we kept awayand avoided it. It was in sight all the afternoon; and when we got toleeward of it, the wind died away, so that we lay-to quite near it fora greater part of the night. Unfortunately, there was no moon, but itwas a clear night, and we could plainly mark the long, regular heavingof the stupendous mass, as its edges moved slowly against the stars. Several times in our watch loud cracks were heard, which sounded asthough they must have run through the whole length of the iceberg, andseveral pieces fell down with a thundering crash, plunging heavily intothe sea. Toward morning, a strong breeze sprang up, and we filledaway, and left it astern, and at daylight it was out of sight. Thenext day, which was

Sunday, July 3d, the breeze continued strong, the air exceedinglychilly, and the thermometer low. In the course of the day we sawseveral icebergs, of different sizes, but none so near as the one whichwe saw the day before. Some of them, as well as we could judge, at thedistance at which we were, must have been as large as that, if notlarger. At noon we were in latitude 55° 12' south, and supposedlongitude 89° 5' west. Toward night the wind hauled to the southward, and headed us off our course a little, and blew a tremendous gale; butthis we did not mind, as there was no rain nor snow, and we werealready under close sail. 

Monday, July 4th. This was "independence day" in Boston. What firingof guns, and ringing of bells, and rejoicings of all sorts, in everypart of our country! The ladies (who have not gone down to Nahant, fora breath of cool air, and sight of the ocean) walking the streets withparasols over their heads, and the dandies in their white pantaloonsand silk stockings! What quantities of ice-cream have been eaten, andwhat quantities of ice brought into the city from a distance, and soldout by the lump and the pound! The smallest of the islands which wesaw today would have made the fortune of poor Jack, if he had had it inBoston; and I dare say he would have had no objection to being therewith it. This, to be sure, was no place to keep the fourth of July. To keep ourselves warm, and the ship out of the ice, was as much as wecould do. Yet no one forgot the day; and many were the wishes, andconjectures, and comparisons, both serious and ludicrous, which weremade among all hands. The sun shone bright as long as it was up, onlythat a scud of black clouds was ever and anon driving across it. Atnoon we were in lat. 54° 27' S. , and long. 85° 5' W. , having made agood deal of easting, but having lost in our latitude by the heading ofthe wind. Between daylight and dark--that is, between nine o'clock andthree--we saw thirty-four ice islands, of various sizes; some no biggerthan the hull of our vessel, and others apparently nearly as large asthe one that we first saw; though, as we went on, the islands becamesmaller and more numerous; and, at sundown of this day, a man at themast-head saw large fields of floating ice called "field-ice" at thesouth-east. This kind of ice is much more dangerous than the largeislands, for those can be seen at a distance, and kept away from; butthe field-ice, floating in great quantities, and covering the ocean formiles and miles, in pieces of every size--large, flat, and brokencakes, with here and there an island rising twenty and thirty feet, andas large as the ship's hull;--this, it is very difficult to sheer clearof. A constant look-out was necessary; for any of these pieces, comingwith the heave of the sea, were large enough to have knocked a hole inthe ship, and that would have been the end of us; for no boat (even ifwe could have got one out) could have lived in such a sea; and no mancould have lived in a boat in such weather. To make our conditionstill worse, the wind came out due east, just after sundown, and itblew a gale dead ahead, with hail and sleet, and a thick fog, so thatwe could not see half the length of the ship. Our chief reliance, theprevailing westerly gales, was thus cut off; and here we were, nearlyseven hundred miles to the westward of the Cape, with a gale dead fromthe eastward, and the weather so thick that we could not see the icewith which we were surrounded, until it was directly under our bows. 

At four, P. M. (it was then quite dark) all hands were called, and sentaloft in a violent squall of hail and rain, to take in sail. We hadnow all got on our "Cape Horn rig"--thick boots, south-westers comingdown over our neck and ears, thick trowsers and jackets, and some withoil-cloth suits over all. Mittens, too, we wore on deck, but it wouldnot do to go aloft with them on, for it was impossible to work withthem, and, being wet and stiff, they might let a man slip overboard, for all the hold he could get upon a rope; so, we were obliged to workwith bare hands, which, as well as our faces, were often cut with thehail-stones, which fell thick and large. Our ship was now all casedwith ice, --hull, spars, and standing rigging;--and the running riggingso stiff that we could hardly bend it so as to belay it, or, stillworse, take a knot with it; and the sails nearly as stiff as sheetiron. One at a time, (for it was a long piece of work and requiredmany hands, ) we furled the courses, mizen topsail, and fore-topmaststaysail, and close-reefed the fore and main topsails, and hove theship to under the fore, with the main hauled up by the clewlines andbuntlines, and ready to be sheeted home, if we found it necessary tomake sail to get to windward of an ice island. A regular look-out wasthen set, and kept by each watch in turn, until the morning. It was atedious and anxious night. It blew hard the whole time, and there wasan almost constant driving of either rain, hail, or snow. In additionto this, it was "as thick as muck, " and the ice was all about us. Thecaptain was on deck nearly the whole night, and kept the cook in thegalley, with a roaring fire, to make coffee for him, which he tookevery few hours, and once or twice gave a little to his officers; butnot a drop of anything was there for the crew. The captain, who sleepsall the daytime, and comes and goes at night as he chooses, can havehis brandy and water in the cabin, and his hot coffee at the galley;while Jack, who has to stand through everything, and work in wet andcold, can have nothing to wet his lips or warm his stomach. 

This was a "temperance ship, " and, like too many such ships, thetemperance was all in the forecastle. The sailor, who only takes hisone glass as it is dealt out to him, is in danger of being drunk; whilethe captain, who has all under his hand, and can drink as much as hechooses, and upon whose self-possession and cool judgment the lives ofall depend, may be trusted with any amount, to drink at his will. Sailors will never be convinced that rum is a dangerous thing, bytaking it away from them, and giving it to the officers; nor that, thattemperance is their friend, which takes from them what they have alwayshad, and gives them nothing in the place of it. By seeing it allowedto their officers, they will not be convinced that it is taken fromthem for their good; and by receiving nothing in its place, they willnot believe that it is done in kindness. On the contrary, many of themlook upon the change as a new instrument of tyranny. Not that theyprefer rum. I never knew a sailor, in my life, who would not prefer apot of hot coffee or chocolate, in a cold night, to all the rum afloat. They all say that rum only warms them for a time; yet, if they can getnothing better, they will miss what they have lost. The momentarywarmth and glow from drinking it; the break and change which is made ina long, dreary watch by the mere calling all hands aft and serving ofit out; and the simply having some event to look forward to, and totalk about; give it an importance and a use which no one can appreciatewho has not stood his watch before the mast. On my passage round CapeHorn before, the vessel that I was in was not under temperancearticles, and grog was served out every middle and morning watch, andafter every reefing of topsails; and though I had never drank rumbefore, and never intend to again, I took my allowance then at thecapstan, as the rest did, merely for the momentary warmth it gave thesystem, and the change in our feelings and aspect of our duties on thewatch. At the same time, as I have stated, there was not a man onboard who would not have pitched the rum to the dogs, (I have heardthem say so, a dozen times) for a pot of coffee or chocolate; or evenfor our common beverage--"water bewitched, and tea begrudged, " as itwas. [1]

The temperance reform is the best thing that ever was undertaken forthe sailor; but when the grog is taken from him, he ought to havesomething in its place. As it is now, in most vessels, it is a meresaving to the owners; and this accounts for the sudden increase oftemperance ships, which surprised even the best friends of the cause. If every merchant, when he struck grog from the list of the expenses ofhis ship, had been obliged to substitute as much coffee, or chocolate, as would give each man a pot-full when he came off the topsail yard, ona stormy night;--I fear Jack might have gone to ruin on the oldroad. [2] But this is not doubling Cape Horn. Eight hours of thenight, our watch was on deck, and during the whole of that time we kepta bright look-out: one man on each bow, another in the bunt of the foreyard, the third mate on the scuttle, one on each quarter, and a manalways standing by the wheel. The chief mate was everywhere, andcommanded the ship when the captain was below. 

When a large piece of ice was seen in our way, or drifting near us, theword was passed along, and the ship's head turned one way and another;and sometimes the yards squared or braced up. There was little else todo than to look out; and we had the sharpest eyes in the ship on theforecastle. The only variety was the monotonous voice of the look-outforward--"Another island!"--"Ice ahead!"--"Ice on the lee bow!"--"Hardup the helm!"--"Keep her off a little!"--"Stead-y!"

In the meantime, the wet and cold had brought my face into such a statethat I could neither eat nor sleep; and though I stood it out allnight, yet, when it became light, I was in such a state, that all handstold me I must go below, and lie-by for a day or two, or I should belaid up for a long time, and perhaps have the lock-jaw. 

When the watch was changed I went into the steerage, and took off myhat and comforter, and showed my face to the mate, who told me to gobelow at once, and stay in my berth until the swelling went down, andgave the cook orders to make a poultice for me, and said he would speakto the captain. 

I went below and turned-in, covering myself over with blankets andjackets, and lay in my berth nearly twenty-four hours, half asleep andhalf awake, stupid, from the dull pain. I heard the watch called, andthe men going up and down, and sometimes a noise on deck, and a cry of"ice, " but I gave little attention to anything. At the end oftwenty-four hours the pain went down, and I had a long sleep, whichbrought me back to my proper state; yet my face was so swollen andtender, that I was obliged to keep to my berth for two or three dayslonger. During the two days I had been below, the weather was much thesame that it had been, head winds, and snow and rain; or, if the windcame fair, too foggy, and the ice too thick, to run. At the end of thethird day the ice was very thick; a complete fog-bank covered the ship. It blew a tremendous gale from the eastward, with sleet and snow, andthere was every promise of a dangerous and fatiguing night. At dark, the captain called all hands aft, and told them that not a man was toleave the deck that night; that the ship was in the greatest danger;any cake of ice might knock a hole in her, or she might run on anisland and go to pieces. No one could tell whether she would be a shipthe next morning. The look-outs were then set, and every man was putin his station. When I heard what was the state of things, I began toput on my clothes to stand it out with the rest of them, when the matecame below, and looking at my face, ordered me back to my berth, sayingthat if we went down, we should all go down together, but if I went ondeck I might lay myself up for life. This was the first word I hadheard from aft; for the captain had done nothing, nor inquired how Iwas, since I went below. 

In obedience to the mate's orders, I went back to my berth; but a moremiserable night I never wish to spend. I never felt the curse ofsickness so keenly in my life. If I could only have been on deck withthe rest, where something was to be done, and seen, and heard; wherethere were fellow-beings for companions in duty and danger--but to becooped up alone in a black hole, in equal danger, but without the powerto do, was the hardest trial. Several times, in the course of thenight, I got up, determined to go on deck; but the silence which showedthat there was nothing doing, and the knowledge that I might makemyself seriously ill, for nothing, kept me back. It was not easy tosleep, lying, as I did, with my head directly against the bows, whichmight be dashed in by an island of ice, brought down by the very nextsea that struck her. This was the only time I had been ill since Ileft Boston, and it was the worst time it could have happened. I feltalmost willing to bear the plagues of Egypt for the rest of the voyage, if I could but be well and strong for that one night. Yet it was adreadful night for those on deck. 

A watch of eighteen hours, with wet, and cold, and constant anxiety, nearly wore them out; and when they came below at nine o'clock forbreakfast, they almost dropped asleep on their chests, and some of themwere so stiff that they could with difficulty sit down. Not a drop ofanything had been given them during the whole time, (though thecaptain, as on the night that I was on deck, had his coffee every fourhours, ) except that the mate stole a potful of coffee for two men todrink behind the galley, while he kept a look-out for the captain. Every man had his station, and was not allowed to leave it; and nothinghappened to break the monotony of the night, except once setting themain topsails to run clear of a large island to leeward, which theywere drifting fast upon. Some of the boys got so sleepy and stupefied, that they actually fell asleep at their posts; and the young thirdmate, whose station was the exposed one of standing on the forescuttle, was so stiff, when he was relieved, that he could not bend hisknees to get down. By a constant look-out, and a quick shifting of thehelm, as the islands and pieces came in sight, the ship went clear ofeverything but a few small pieces, though daylight showed the oceancovered for miles. At daybreak it fell a dead calm, and with the sun, the fog cleared a little, and a breeze sprung up from the westward, which soon grew into a gale. We had now a fair wind, daylight, andcomparatively clear weather; yet, to the surprise of every one, theship continued hove-to. Why does not he run? What is the captainabout? was asked by every one; and from questions, it soon grew intocomplaints and murmurings. When the daylight was so short, it was toobad to lose it, and a fair wind, too, which every one had been prayingfor. As hour followed hour, and the captain showed no sign of makingsail, the crew became impatient, and there was a good deal of talkingand consultation together, on the forecastle. They had been beaten outwith the exposure and hardship, and impatient to get out of it, andthis unaccountable delay was more than they could bear in quietness, intheir excited and restless state. Some said that the captain wasfrightened, --completely cowed, by the dangers and difficulties thatsurrounded us, and was afraid to make sail; while others said that inhis anxiety and suspense he had made a free use of brandy and opium, and was unfit for his duty. The carpenter, who was an intelligent man, and a thorough seaman, and had great influence with the crew, came downinto the forecastle, and tried to induce the crew to go aft and ask thecaptain why he did not run, or request him, in the name of all hands, to make sail. This appeared to be a very reasonable request, and thecrew agreed that if he did not make sail before noon, they would goaft. Noon came, and no sail was made. A consultation was held again, and it was proposed to take the ship from the captain and give thecommand of her to the mate, who had been heard to say that, if he couldhave his way, the ship would have been half the distance to the Capebefore night, --ice or no ice. And so irritated and impatient had thecrew become, that even this proposition, which was open mutiny, punishable with state prison, was entertained, and the carpenter wentto his berth, leaving it tacitly understood that something seriouswould be done, if things remained as they were many hours longer. Whenthe carpenter left, we talked it all over, and I gave my advicestrongly against it. Another of the men, too, who had known somethingof the kind attempted in another ship by a crew who were dissatisfiedwith their captain, and which was followed with serious consequences, was opposed to it. S----, who soon came down, joined us, and wedetermined to have nothing to do with it. By these means, they weresoon induced to give it up, for the present, though they said theywould not lie where they were much longer without knowing the reason. 

The affair remained in this state until four o'clock, when an ordercame forward for all hands to come aft upon the quarter-deck. In aboutten minutes they came forward again, and the whole affair had beenblown. The carpenter, very prematurely, and without any authority fromthe crew, had sounded the mate as to whether he would take command ofthe ship, and intimated an intention to displace the captain; and themate, as in duty bound, had told the whole to the captain, whoimmediately sent for all hands aft. Instead of violent measures, or, at least, an outbreak of quarter-deck bravado, threats, and abuse, which they had every reason to expect, a sense of common danger andcommon suffering seemed to have tamed his spirit, and begottensomething like a humane fellow-feeling; for he received the crew in amanner quiet, and even almost kind. He told them what he had heard, and said that he did not believe that they would try to do any suchthing as was intimated; that they had always been good men, --obedient, and knew their duty, and he had no fault to find with them; and askedthem what they had to complain of--said that no one could say that hewas slow to carry sail, (which was true enough;) and that, as soon ashe thought it was safe and proper, he should make sail. He added a fewwords about their duty in their present situation, and sent themforward, saying that he should take no further notice of the matter;but, at the same time, told the carpenter to recollect whose power hewas in, and that if he heard another word from him he would have causeto remember him to the day of his death. 

This language of the captain had a very good effect upon the crew, andthey returned quietly to their duty. 

For two days more the wind blew from the southward and eastward; or inthe short intervals when it was fair, the ice was too thick to run; yetthe weather was not so dreadfully bad, and the crew had watch andwatch. I still remained in my berth, fast recovering, yet still notwell enough to go safely on deck. And I should have been perfectlyuseless; for, from having eaten nothing for nearly a week, except alittle rice, which I forced into my mouth the last day or two, I was asweak as an infant. To be sick in a forecastle is miserable indeed. Itis the worst part of a dog's life; especially in bad weather. Theforecastle, shut up tight to keep out the water and cold air;--thewatch either on deck, or asleep in their berths;--no one to speakto;--the pale light of the single lamp, swinging to and fro from thebeam, so dim that one can scarcely see, much less read by it;--thewater dropping from the beams and carlines, and running down the sides;and the forecastle so wet, and dark, and cheerless, and so lumbered upwith chests and wet clothes, that sitting up is worse than lying in theberth! These are some of the evils. Fortunately, I needed no helpfrom any one, and no medicine; and if I had needed help, I don't knowwhere I should have found it. Sailors are willing enough; but it istrue, as is often said--No one ships for nurse on board a vessel. Ourmerchant ships are always under-manned, and if one man is lost bysickness, they cannot spare another to take care of him. A sailor isalways presumed to be well, and if he's sick, he's a poor dog. One hasto stand his wheel, and another his lookout, and the sooner he gets ondeck again, the better. 

Accordingly, as soon as I could possibly go back to my duty, I put onmy thick clothes and boots and south-wester, and made my appearance ondeck. Though I had been but a few days below, yet everything lookedstrangely enough. The ship was cased in ice, --decks, sides, masts, yards, and rigging. Two close-reefed top-sails were all the sail shehad on, and every sail and rope was frozen so stiff in its place, thatit seemed as though it would be impossible to start anything. Reduced, too, to her top-masts, she had altogether a most forlorn and crippledappearance. The sun had come up brightly; the snow was swept off thedecks, and ashes thrown upon them, so that we could walk, for they hadbeen as slippery as glass. 

It was, of course, too cold to carry on any ship's work, and we hadonly to walk the deck and keep ourselves warm. The wind was stillahead, and the whole ocean, to the eastward, covered with islands andfield-ice. At four bells the order was given to square away the yards;and the man who came from the helm said that the captain had kept heroff to N. N. E. What could this mean? Some said that he was going toput into Valparaiso, and winter, and others that he was going to runout of the ice and cross the Pacific, and go home round the Cape ofGood Hope. Soon, however, it leaked out, and we found that we wererunning for the straits of Magellan. The news soon spread through theship, and all tongues were at work, talking about it. No one on boardhad been through the straits, but I had in my chest an account of thepassage of the ship A. J. Donelson, of New York, through those straits, a few years before. 

The account was given by the captain, and the representation was asfavorable as possible. It was soon read by every one on board, andvarious opinions pronounced. The determination of our captain had atleast this good effect; it gave every one something to think and talkabout, made a break in our life, and diverted our minds from themonotonous dreariness of the prospect before us. Having made a fairwind of it, we were going off at a good rate, and leaving the thickestof the ice behind us. This, at least, was something. 

Having been long enough below to get my hands well warmed and softened, the first handling of the ropes was rather tough; but a few dayshardened them, and as soon as I got my mouth open wide enough to takein a piece of salt beef and hard bread, I was all right again. 

Sunday, July 10th. Lat. 54° 10', long. 79° 07'. This was our positionat noon. The sun was out bright; the ice was all left behind, andthings had quite a cheering appearance. We brought our wet pea-jacketsand trowsers on deck, and hung them up in the rigging, that the breezeand the few hours of sun might dry them a little; and, by thepermission of the cook, the galley was nearly filled with stockings andmittens, hung round to be dried. Boots, too, were brought up; andhaving got a little tar and slush from below, we gave them a thickcoat. After dinner, all hands were turned-to, to get the anchors overthe bows, bend on the chains, etc. The fish-tackle was got up, fish-davit rigged out, and after two or three hours of hard and coldwork, both the anchors were ready for instant use, a couple of kedgesgot up, a hawser coiled away upon the fore-hatch, and thedeep-sea-lead-line overhauled and got ready. Our spirits returned withhaving something to do; and when the tackle was manned to bowse theanchor home, notwithstanding the desolation of the scene, we struck up"Cheerily ho!" in full chorus. This pleased the mate, who rubbed hishands and cried out--"That's right, my boys; never say die! That soundslike the old crew!" and the captain came up, on hearing the song, andsaid to the passenger, within hearing of the man at the wheel, --"Thatsounds like a lively crew. They'll have their song so long as there'reenough left for a chorus!"

This preparation of the cable and anchors was for the passage of thestraits; for, being very crooked, and with a variety of currents, it isnecessary to come frequently to anchor. This was not, by any means, apleasant prospect, for, of all the work that a sailor is called upon todo in cold weather, there is none so bad as working the ground-tackle. The heavy chain cables to be hauled and pulled about the decks withbare hands; wet hawsers, slip-ropes, and buoy-ropes to be hauledaboard, dripping in water, which is running up your sleeves, andfreezing; clearing hawse under the bows; getting under weigh andcoming-to, at all hours of the night and day, and a constant look-outfor rocks and sands and turns of tides;--these are some of thedisagreeables of such a navigation to a common sailor. Fair or foul, he wants to have nothing to do with the ground-tackle between port andport. One of our hands, too, had unluckily fallen upon a half of anold newspaper which contained an account of the passage, through thestraits, of a Boston brig, called, I think, the Peruvian, in which shelost every cable and anchor she had, got aground twice, and arrived atValparaiso in distress. This was set off against the account of the A. J. Donelson, and led us to look forward with less confidence to thepassage, especially as no one on board had ever been through, and thecaptain had no very perfect charts. However, we were spared anyfurther experience on the point; for the next day, when we must havebeen near the Cape of Pillars, which is the south-west point of themouth of the straits, a gale set in from the eastward, with a heavyfog, so that we could not see half of the ship's length ahead. This, ofcourse, put an end to the project, for the present; for a thick fog anda gale blowing dead ahead are not the most favorable circumstances forthe passage of difficult and dangerous straits. This weather, too, seemed likely to last for some time, and we could not think of beatingabout the mouth of the straits for a week or two, waiting for afavorable opportunity; so we braced up on the larboard tack, put theship's head due south, and struck her off for Cape Horn again. 

[1] The proportions of the ingredients of the tea that was made for us(and ours, as I have before stated, was a favorable specimen ofAmerican merchantmen) were, a pint of tea, and a pint and a half ofmolasses, to about three gallons of water. 

These are all boiled down together in the "coppers, " and before servingit out, the mess is stirred up with a stick, so as to give each man hisfair share of sweetening and tea-leaves. The tea for the cabin is, ofcourse, made in the usual way, in a tea-pot, and drank with sugar. 

[2] I do not wish these remarks, so far as they relate to the saving ofexpense in the outfit, to be applied to the owners of our ship, for shewas supplied with an abundance of stores, of the best kind that aregiven to seamen;, though the dispensing of them is necessarily left tothe captain, Indeed, so high was the reputation of "the employ" amongmen and officers, for the character and outfit of their vessels, andfor their liberality in conducting their voyages, that when it wasknown that they had a ship fitting out for a long voyage, and thathands were to be shipped at a certain time, --a half hour before thetime, as one of the crew told me, numbers of sailors were steering downthe wharf, hopping over the barrels, like flocks of sheep. 

CHAPTER XXXII

ICE AGAIN--A BEAUTIFUL AFTERNOON--CAPE HORN--"LAND HO!"--HEADING FORHOME

In our first attempt to double the Cape, when we came up to thelatitude of it, we were nearly seventeen hundred miles to the westward, but, in running for the straits of Magellan, we stood so far to theeastward, that we made our second attempt at a distance of not morethan four or five hundred miles; and we had great hopes, by this means, to run clear of the ice; thinking that the easterly gales, which hadprevailed for a long time, would have driven it to the westward. Withthe wind about two points free, the yards braced in a little, and twoclose-reefed topsails and a reefed foresail on the ship, we made greatway toward the southward and, almost every watch, when we came on deck, the air seemed to grow colder, and the sea to run higher. Still, wesaw no ice, and had great hopes of going clear of it altogether, when, one afternoon, about three o'clock, while we were taking a siestaduring our watch below, "All hands!" was called in a loud and fearfulvoice. "Tumble up here, men!--tumble up!--don't stop for yourclothes--before we're upon it!" We sprang out of our berths andhurried upon deck. 

The loud, sharp voice of the captain was heard giving orders, as thoughfor life or death, and we ran aft to the braces, not waiting to lookahead, for not a moment was to be lost. The helm was hard up, the afteryards shaking, and the ship in the act of wearing. 

Slowly, with stiff ropes and iced rigging, we swung the yards round, everything coming hard, and with a creaking and rending sound, likepulling up a plank which had been frozen into the ice. The ship woreround fairly, the yards were steadied, and we stood off on the othertack, leaving behind us, directly under our larboard quarter, a largeice island, peering out of the mist, and reaching high above our tops, while astern; and on either side of the island, large tracts offield-ice were dimly seen, heaving and rolling in the sea. We were nowsafe, and standing to the northward; but, in a few minutes more, had itnot been for the sharp look-out of the watch, we should have beenfairly upon the ice, and left our ship's old bones adrift in theSouthern ocean. After standing to the northward a few hours, we woreship, and the wind having hauled, we stood to the southward andeastward. All night long, a bright lookout was kept from every part ofthe deck; and whenever ice was seen on the one bow or the other, thehelm was shifted and the yards braced, and by quick working of the shipshe was kept clear. The accustomed cry of "Ice ahead!"--"Ice on thelee bow!"--"Another island!" in the same tones, and with the sameorders following them, seemed to bring us directly back to our oldposition of the week before. 

During our watch on deck, which was from twelve to four, the wind cameout ahead, with a pelting storm of hail and sleet, and we lay hove-to, under a close-reefed main topsail, the whole watch. During the nextwatch it fell calm, with a drenching rain, until daybreak, when thewind came out to the westward, and the weather cleared up, and showedus the whole ocean, in the course which we should have steered, had itnot been for the head wind and calm, completely blocked up with ice. Here then our progress was stopped, and we wore ship, and once morestood to the northward and eastward; not for the straits of Magellan, but to make another attempt to double the Cape, still farther to theeastward; for the captain was determined to get round if perseverancecould do it; and the third time, he said, never failed. 

With a fair wind we soon ran clear of the field-ice, and by noon hadonly the stray islands floating far and near upon the ocean. 

The sun was out bright, the sea of a deep blue, fringed with the whitefoam of the waves which ran high before a strong south-wester; oursolitary ship tore on through the water, as though glad to be out ofher confinement; and the ice islands lay scattered upon the ocean hereand there, of various sizes and shapes, reflecting the bright rays ofthe sun, and drifting slowly northward before the gale. It was acontrast to much that we had lately seen, and a spectacle not only ofbeauty, but of life; for it required but little fancy to imagine theseislands to be animate masses which had broken loose from the "thrillingregions of thick-ribbed ice, " and were working their way, by wind andcurrent, some alone, and some in fleets, to milder climes. No pencilhas ever yet given anything like the true effect of an iceberg. In apicture, they are huge, uncouth masses, stuck in the sea, while theirchief beauty and grandeur, --their slow, stately motion; the whirling ofthe snow about their summits, and the fearful groaning and cracking oftheir parts, --the picture cannot give. This is the large iceberg;while the small and distant islands, floating on the smooth sea, in thelight of a clear day, look like little floating fairy isles of sapphire. 

From a north-east course we gradually hauled to the eastward, and aftersailing about two hundred miles, which brought us as near to thewestern coast of Terra del Fuego as was safe, and having lost sight ofthe ice altogether, --for the third time we put the ship's head to thesouthward, to try the passage of the Cape. The weather continued clearand cold, with a strong gale from the westward, and we were fastgetting up with the latitude of the Cape, with a prospect of soon beinground. One fine afternoon, a man who had gone into the fore-top toshift the rolling tackles, sung out, at the top of his voice, and withevident glee, --"Sail ho!" Neither land nor sail had we seen sinceleaving San Diego; and any one who has traversed the length of a wholeocean alone, can imagine what an excitement such an announcementproduced on board. "Sail ho!" shouted the cook, jumping out of hisgalley; "Sail ho!" shouted a man, throwing back the slide of thescuttle, to the watch below, who were soon out of their berths and ondeck; and "Sail ho!" shouted the captain down the companion-way to thepassenger in the cabin. Besides the pleasure of seeing a ship andhuman beings in so desolate a place, it was important for us to speak avessel, to learn whether there was ice to the eastward, and toascertain the longitude; for we had no chronometer, and had beendrifting about so long that we had nearly lost our reckoning, andopportunities for lunar observations are not frequent or sure in such aplace as Cape Horn. For these various reasons, the excitement in ourlittle community was running high, and conjectures were made, andeverything thought of for which the captain would hail, when the manaloft sung out--"Another sail, large on the weather bow!"

This was a little odd, but so much the better, and did not shake ourfaith in their being sails. At length the man in the top hailed, andsaid he believed it was land, after all. "Land in your eye!" said themate, who was looking through a telescope; "they are ice islands, if Ican see a hole through a ladder;" and a few moments showed the mate tobe right and all our expectations fled; and instead of what we mostwished to see, we had what we most dreaded, and what we hoped we hadseen the last of. We soon, however, left these astern, having passedwithin about two miles of them; and at sundown the horizon was clear inall directions. 

Having a fine wind, we were soon up with and passed the latitude of theCape, and having stood far enough to the southward to give it a wideberth, we began to stand to the eastward, with a good prospect of beinground and steering to the northward on the other side, in a very fewdays. 

But ill luck seemed to have lighted upon us. Not four hours had webeen standing on in this course, before it fell dead calm; and in halfan hour it clouded up; a few straggling blasts, with spits of snow andsleet, came from the eastward; and in an hour more, we lay hove-tounder a close-reefed main topsail, drifting bodily off to leewardbefore the fiercest storm that we had yet felt, blowing dead ahead, from the eastward. It seemed as though the genius of the place hadbeen roused at finding that we had nearly slipped through his fingers, and had come down upon us with tenfold fury. The sailors said thatevery blast, as it shook the shrouds, and whistled through the rigging, said to the old ship, "No, you don't!"--"No, you don't!"

For eight days we lay drifting about in this manner. Sometimes, --generally towards noon, --it fell calm; once or twice around copper ball showed itself for a few moments in the place wherethe sun ought to have been; and a puff or two came from the westward, giving some hope that a fair wind had come at last. During the firsttwo days, we made sail for these puffs, shaking the reefs out of thetopsails and boarding the tacks of the courses; but finding that itonly made work for us when the gale set in again, it was soon given up, and we lay-to under our close-reefs. 

We had less snow and hail than when we were farther to the westward, but we had an abundance of what is worse to a sailor in coldweather--drenching rain. Snow is blinding, and very bad when comingupon a coast, but, for genuine discomfort, give me rain with freezingweather. A snow-storm is exciting, and it does not wet through theclothes (which is important to a sailor); but a constant rain there isno escaping from. It wets to the skin, and makes all protection vain. We had long ago run through all our dry clothes, and as sailors have noother way of drying them than by the sun, we had nothing to do but toput on those which were the least wet. 

At the end of each watch, when we came below, we took off our clothesand wrung them out; two taking hold of a pair of trowsers, --one at eachend, --and jackets in the same way. Stockings, mittens, and all, werewrung out also and then hung up to drain and chafe dry against thebulk-heads. Then, feeling of all our clothes, we picked out thosewhich were the least wet, and put them on, so as to be ready for acall, and turned-in, covered ourselves up with blankets, and sleptuntil three knocks on the scuttle and the dismal sound of "Allstarbowlines ahoy! Eight bells, there below! Do you hear the news?"drawled out from on deck, and the sulky answer of "Aye, aye!" frombelow, sent us up again. 

On deck, all was as dark as a pocket, and either a dead calm, with therain pouring steadily down, or, more generally, a violent gale deadahead, with rain pelting horizontally, and occasional variations ofhail and sleet;--decks afloat with water swashing from side to side, and constantly wet feet; for boots could not be wrung out like drawers, and no composition could stand the constant soaking. In fact, wet andcold feet are inevitable in such weather, and are not the least ofthose little items which go to make up the grand total of thediscomforts of a winter passage round the Cape. Few words were spokenbetween the watches as they shifted, the wheel was relieved, the matetook his place on the quarter-deck, the look-outs in the bows; and eachman had his narrow space to walk fore and aft in, or, rather, to swinghimself forward and back in, from one belaying pin to another, --for thedecks were too slippery with ice and water to allow of much walking. To make a walk, which is absolutely necessary to pass away the time, one of us hit upon the expedient of sanding the deck; and afterwards, whenever the rain was not so violent as to wash it off, the weathersideof the quarter-deck and a part of the waist and forecastle weresprinkled with the sand which we had on board for holystoning; and thuswe made a good promenade, where we walked fore and aft, two and two, hour after hour, in our long, dull, and comfortless watches. The bellsseemed to be an hour or two apart, instead of half an hour, and an ageto elapse before the welcome sound of eight bells. The sole object wasto make the time pass on. Any change was sought for, which would breakthe monotony of the time; and even the two hours' trick at the wheel, which came round to each of us, in turn, once in every other watch, waslooked upon as a relief. Even the never-failing resource of longyarns, which eke out many a watch, seemed to have failed us now; for wehad been so long together that we had heard each other's stories toldover and over again, till we had them by heart; each one knew the wholehistory of each of the others, and we were fairly and literally talkedout. Singing and joking, we were in no humor for, and, in fact, anysound of mirth or laughter would have struck strangely upon our ears, and would not have been tolerated, any more than whistling, or a windinstrument. The last resort, that of speculating upon the future, seemed now to fail us, for our discouraging situation, and the dangerwe were really in, (as we expected every day to find ourselves driftedback among the ice) "clapped a stopper" upon all that. Fromsaying--"when we get home"--we began insensibly to alter it to--"if weget home"--and at last the subject was dropped by a tacit consent. 

In this state of things, a new light was struck out, and a new fieldopened, by a change in the watch. One of our watch was laid up for twoor three days by a bad hand, (for in cold weather the least cut orbruise ripens into a sore, ) and his place was supplied by thecarpenter. This was a windfall, and there was quite a contest, whoshould have the carpenter to walk with him. As "Chips" was a man ofsome little education, and he and I had had a good deal of intercoursewith each other, he fell in with me in my walk. He was a Fin, butspoke English very well, and gave me long accounts of his country;--thecustoms, the trade, the towns, what little he knew of the government, (I found he was no friend of Russia), his voyages, his first arrival inAmerica, his marriage and courtship;--he had married a countrywoman ofhis, a dress-maker, whom he met with in Boston. I had very little totell him of my quiet, sedentary life at home; and, in spite of our bestefforts, which had protracted these yarns through five or six watches, we fairly talked one another out, and I turned him over to another manin the watch, and put myself upon my own resources. 

I commenced a deliberate system of time-killing, which united someprofit with a cheering up of the heavy hours. As soon as I came ondeck, and took my place and regular walk, I began with repeating overto myself a string of matters which I had in my memory, in regularorder. First, the multiplication table and the tables of weights andmeasures; then the states of the union, with their capitals; thecounties of England, with their shire towns; the kings of England intheir order; and a large part of the peerage, which I committed from analmanac that we had on board; and then the Kanaka numerals. Thiscarried me through my facts, and, being repeated deliberately, withlong intervals, often eked out the two first bells. Then came the tencommandments; the thirty-ninth chapter of Job, and a few other passagesfrom Scripture. The next in the order, that I never varied from, cameCowper's Castaway, which was a great favorite with me; the solemnmeasure and gloomy character of which, as well as the incident that itwas founded upon, made it well suited to a lonely watch at sea. Thenhis lines to Mary, his address to the jackdaw, and a short extract fromTable Talk; (I abounded in Cowper, for I happened to have a volume ofhis poems in my chest;) "Ille et nefasto" from Horace, and Goethe's ErlKing. After I had got through these, I allowed myself a more generalrange among everything that I could remember, both in prose and verse. In this way, with an occasional break by relieving the wheel, heavingthe log, and going to the scuttle-butt for a drink of water, thelongest watch was passed away; and I was so regular in my silentrecitations, that if there was no interruption by ship's duty, I couldtell very nearly the number of bells by my progress. 

Our watches below were no more varied than the watch on deck. 

All washing, sewing, and reading was given up; and we did nothing buteat, sleep, and stand our watch, leading what might be called a CapeHorn life. The forecastle was too uncomfortable to sit up in; andwhenever we were below, we were in our berths. To prevent the rain, and the sea-water which broke over the bows, from washing down, we wereobliged to keep the scuttle closed, so that the forecastle was nearlyair-tight. In this little, wet, leaky hole, we were all quartered, inan atmosphere so bad that our lamp, which swung in the middle from thebeams, sometimes actually burned blue, with a large circle of foul airabout it. Still I was never in better health than after three weeks ofthis life. I gained a great deal of flesh, and we all ate like horses. At every watch, when we came below, before turning-in, the bread bargeand beef kid were overhauled. Each man drank his quart of hot teanight and morning; and glad enough we were to get it, for no nectar andambrosia were sweeter to the lazy immortals, than was a pot of hot tea, a hard biscuit, and a slice of cold salt beef, to us after a watch ondeck. To be sure, we were mere animals and had this life lasted a yearinstead of a month we should have been little better than the ropes inthe ship. Not a razor, nor a brush, nor a drop of water, except therain and the spray, had come near us all the time; for we were on anallowance of fresh water; and who would strip and wash himself in saltwater on deck, in the snow and ice, with the thermometer at zero?

After about eight days of constant easterly gales, the wind hauledoccasionally a little to the southward, and blew hard, which, as wewere well to the southward, allowed us to brace in a little and standon, under all the sail we could carry. These turns lasted but a shortwhile, and sooner or later it set again from the old quarter; yet eachtime we made something, and were gradually edging along to theeastward. One night, after one of these shifts of the wind, and whenall hands had been up a great part of the time, our watch was left ondeck, with the mainsail hanging in the buntlines, ready to be set ifnecessary. It came on to blow worse and worse, with hail and snowbeating like so many furies upon the ship, it being as dark and thickas night could make it. The mainsail was blowing and slatting with anoise like thunder, when the captain came on deck, and ordered it to befurled. The mate was about to call all hands, when the captain stoppedhim, and said that the men would be beaten out if they were called upso often; that as our watch must stay on deck, it might as well bedoing that as anything else. 

Accordingly, we went upon the yard; and never shall I forget that pieceof work. Our watch had been so reduced by sickness, and by some havingbeen left in California, that, with one man at the wheel, we had onlythe third mate and three beside myself, to go aloft; so that at most, we could only attempt to furl one yard-arm at a time. We manned theweather yard-arm, and set to work to make a furl of it. Our lowermasts being short, and our yards very square, the sail had a head ofnearly fifty feet, and a short leach, made still shorter by the deepreef which was in it, which brought the clew away out on the quartersof the yard, and made a bunt nearly as square as the mizen royal-yard. Beside this difficulty, the yard over which we lay was cased with ice, the gaskets and rope of the foot and leach of the sail as stiff andhard as a piece of suction-hose, and the sail itself about as pliableas though it had been made of sheets of sheathing copper. It blew aperfect hurricane, with alternate blasts of snow, hail, and rain. Wehad to fist the sail with bare hands. No one could trust himself tomittens, for if he slipped, he was a gone man. All the boats werehoisted in on deck, and there was nothing to be lowered for him. Wehad need of every finger God had given us. Several times we got thesail upon the yard, but it blew away again before we could secure it. It required men to lie over the yard to pass each turn of the gaskets, and when they were passed, it was almost impossible to knot them sothat they would hold. Frequently we were obliged to leave offaltogether and take to beating our hands upon the sail, to keep themfrom freezing. 

After some time, --which seemed forever, --we got the weather side stowedafter a fashion, and went over to leeward for another trial. 

This was still worse, for the body of the sail had been blown over toleeward, and as the yard was a-cock-bill by the lying over of thevessel, we had to light it all up to windward. When the yard-arms werefurled, the bunt was all adrift again, which made more work for us. Wegot all secure at last, but we had been nearly an hour and a half uponthe yard, and it seemed an age. It just struck five bells when we wentup, and eight were struck soon after we came down. This may seem slowwork, but considering the state of everything, and that we had onlyfive men to a sail with just half as many square yards of canvas in itas the mainsail of the Independence, sixty-gun ship, which mustersseven hundred men at her quarters, it is not wonderful that we were noquicker about it. We were glad enough to get on deck, and still more, to go below. The oldest sailor in the watch said, as he went down, --"Ishall never forget that main yard;--it beats all my going a fishing. Fun is fun, but furling one yard-arm of a course, at a time, off CapeHorn, is no better than man-killing. "

During the greater part of the next two days, the wind was prettysteady from the southward. We had evidently made great progress, andhad good hope of being soon up with the Cape, if we were not therealready. We could put but little confidence in our reckoning, as therehad been no opportunities for an observation, and we had drifted toomuch to allow of our dead reckoning being anywhere near the mark. Ifit would clear off enough to give a chance for an observation, or if wecould make land, we should know where we were; and upon these, and thechances of falling in with a sail from the eastward, we depended almostentirely. 

Friday, July 22d. This day we had a steady gale from the southward, and stood on under close sail, with the yards eased a little by theweather braces, the clouds lifting a little, and showing signs ofbreaking away. In the afternoon, I was below with Mr. H----, the thirdmate, and two others, filling the bread locker in the steerage from thecasks, when a bright gleam of sunshine broke out and shone down thecompanion-way and through the skylight, lighting up everything below, and sending a warm glow through the heart of every one. It was a sightwe had not seen for weeks, --an omen, a god-send. Even the roughest andhardest face acknowledged its influence. Just at that moment we hearda loud shout from all parts of the deck, and the mate called out downthe companion-way to the captain, who was sitting in the cabin. Whathe said, we could not distinguish, but the captain kicked over hischair, and was on deck at one jump. We could not tell what it was;and, anxious as we were to know, the discipline of the ship would notallow of our leaving our places. Yet, as we were not called, we knewthere was no danger. We hurried to get through with our job, when, seeing the steward's black face peering out of the pantry, Mr. H----hailed him, to know what was the matter. "Lan' o, to be sure, sir! Noyou hear 'em sing out, 'Lan' o?' De cap'em say 'im Cape Horn!"

This gave us a new start, and we were soon through our work, and ondeck; and there lay the land, fair upon the larboard beam, and slowlyedging away upon the quarter. All hands were busy looking at it--thecaptain and mates from the quarter-deck, the cook from his galley, andthe sailors from the forecastle; and even Mr. N. , the passenger, whohad kept in his shell for nearly a month, and hardly been seen byanybody, and who we had almost forgotten was on board, came out like abutterfly, and was hopping round as bright as a bird. 

The land was the island of Staten Land, and, just to the eastward ofCape Horn; and a more desolate-looking spot I never wish to set eyesupon;--bare, broken, and girt with rocks and ice, with here and there, between the rocks and broken hillocks, a little stunted vegetation ofshrubs. It was a place well suited to stand at the junction of the twooceans, beyond the reach of human cultivation, and encounter the blastsand snows of a perpetual winter. Yet, dismal as it was, it was apleasant sight to us; not only as being the first land we had seen, butbecause it told us that we had passed the Cape, --were in theAtlantic, --and that, with twenty-four hours of this breeze, might biddefiance to the Southern Ocean. It told us, too, our latitude andlongitude better than any observation; and the captain now knew wherewe were, as well as if we were off the end of Long wharf. 

In the general joy, Mr. N. Said he should like to go ashore upon theisland and examine a spot which probably no human being had ever setfoot upon; but the captain intimated that he would see theisland--specimens and all, --in--another place, before he would get outa boat or delay the ship one moment for him. 

We left the land gradually astern; and at sundown had the AtlanticOcean clear before us. 

CHAPTER XXXIII

CRACKING ON--PROGRESS HOMEWARD--A PLEASANT SUNDAY--A FINE SIGHT--BY-PLAY

It is usual, in voyages round the Cape from the Pacific, to keep to theeastward of the Falkland Islands; but as it had now set in a strong, steady, and clear south-wester, with every prospect of its lasting, andwe had had enough of high latitudes, the captain determined to standimmediately to the northward, running inside the Falkland Islands. Accordingly, when the wheel was relieved at eight o'clock, the orderwas given to keep her due north, and all hands were turned up to squareaway the yards and make sail. In a moment, the news ran through theship that the captain was keeping her off, with her nose straight forBoston, and Cape Horn over her taffrail. It was a moment ofenthusiasm. Every one was on the alert, and even the two sick menturned out to lend a hand at the halyards. The wind was now duesouth-west, and blowing a gale to which a vessel close hauled couldhave shown no more than a single close-reefed sail; but as we weregoing before it, we could carry on. 

Accordingly, hands were sent aloft, and a reef shaken out of thetop-sails, and the reefed foresail set. When we came to masthead thetopsail yards, with all hands at the halyards, we struck up "Cheerily, men, " with a chorus which might have been heard half-way to StatenLand. Under her increased sail, the ship drove on through the water. Yet she could bear it well; and the captain sang out from thequarter-deck--"Another reef out of that fore-topsail, and give it toher!" Two hands sprang aloft; the frozen reef-points and earings werecast adrift, the halyards manned, and the sail gave out her increasedcanvas to the gale. All hands were kept on deck to watch the effect ofthe change. It was as much as she could well carry, and with a heavysea astern, it took two men at the wheel to steer her. She flung thefoam from her bows; the spray breaking aft as far as the gangway. Shewas going at a prodigious rate. 

Still, everything held. Preventer braces were reeved and hauledtaught; tackles got upon the backstays; and each thing done to keep allsnug and strong. The captain walked the deck at a rapid stride, lookedaloft at the sails, and then to windward; the mate stood in thegangway, rubbing his hands, and talking aloud to the ship--"Hurrah, oldbucket! the Boston girls have got hold of the tow-rope!" and the like;and we were on the forecastle, looking to see how the spars stood it, and guessing the rate at which she was going, --when the captain calledout--"Mr. Brown, get up the topmast studding-sail! What she can'tcarry she may drag!" The mate looked a moment; but he would let no onebe before him in daring. 

He sprang forward--"Hurrah, men! rig out the topmast studding-sailboom! Lay aloft, and I'll send the rigging up to you!"--We sprangaloft into the top; lowered a girt-line down, by which we hauled up therigging; rove the tacks and halyards; ran out the boom and lashed itfast, and sent down the lower halyards, as a preventer. It was a clearstarlight night, cold and blowing; but everybody worked with a will. Some, indeed, looked as though they thought the "old man" was mad, butno one said a word. We had had a new topmast studding-sail made with areef in it, --a thing hardly ever heard of, and which the sailors hadridiculed a good deal, saying that when it was time to reef astudding-sail, it was time to take it in. But we found a use for itnow; for, there being a reef in the topsail, the studding-sail couldnot be set without one in it also. To be sure, a studding-sail withreefed topsails was rather a new thing; yet there was some reason init, for if we carried that away, we should lose only a sail and a boom;but a whole topsail might have carried away the mast and all. 

While we were aloft, the sail had been got out, bent to the yard, reefed, and ready for hoisting. Waiting for a good opportunity, thehalyards were manned and the yard hoisted fairly up to the block; butwhen the mate came to shake the catspaw out of the downhaul, and webegan to boom-end the sail, it shook the ship to her centre. The boombuckled up and bent like a whip-stick, and we looked every moment tosee something go; but, being of the short, tough upland spruce, it bentlike whalebone, and nothing could break it. The carpenter said it wasthe best stick he had ever seen. The strength of all hands soonbrought the tack to the boom-end, and the sheet was trimmed down, andthe preventer and the weather brace hauled taught to take off thestrain. Every rope-yarn seemed stretched to the utmost, and everythread of canvas; and with this sail added to her, the ship sprangthrough the water like a thing possessed. The sail being nearly allforward, it lifted her out of the water, and she seemed actually tojump from sea to sea. From the time her keel was laid, she had neverbeen so driven; and had it been life or death with every one of us, shecould not have borne another stitch of canvas. 

Finding that she would bear the sail, the hands were sent below, andour watch remained on deck. Two men at the wheel had as much as theycould do to keep her within three points of her course, for she steeredas wild as a young colt. The mate walked the deck, looking at thesails, and then over the side to see the foam fly by her, slapping hishands upon his thighs and talking to the ship--"Hurrah, you jade, you've got the scent!--you know where you're going!" And when sheleaped over the seas, and almost out of the water, and trembled to hervery keel, the spars and masts snapping and creaking, --"There shegoes!--There she goes, --handsomely!--as long as she cracks sheholds!"--while we stood with the rigging laid down fair for letting go, and ready to take in sail and clear away, if anything went. At fourbells we hove the log, and she was going eleven knots fairly; and hadit not been for the sea from aft which sent the ship home, and threwher continually off her course, the log would have shown her to havebeen going much faster. I went to the wheel with a young fellow fromthe Kennebec, who was a good helmsman; and for two hours we had ourhands full. A few minutes showed us that our monkey-jackets must comeoff; and, cold as it was, we stood in our shirt-sleeves, in aperspiration; and were glad enough to have it eight bells, and thewheel relieved. We turned-in and slept as well as we could, though thesea made a constant roar under her bows, and washed over the forecastlelike a small cataract. 

At four o'clock, we were called again. The same sail was still on thevessel, and the gale, if there was any change, had increased a little. No attempt was made to take the studding-sail in; and, indeed, it wastoo late now. If we had started anything toward taking it in, eithertack or halyards, it would have blown to pieces, and carried somethingaway with it. The only way now was to let everything stand, and if thegale went down, well and good; if not, something must go--the weakeststick or rope first--and then we could get it in. For more than anhour she was driven on at such a rate that she seemed actually to crowdthe sea into a heap before her; and the water poured over the spritsailyard as it would over a dam. Toward daybreak the gale abated a little, and she was just beginning to go more easily along, relieved of thepressure, when Mr. Brown, determined to give her no respite, anddepending upon the wind's subsiding as the sun rose, told us to getalong the lower studding-sail. This was an immense sail, and held windenough to last a Dutchman a week, --hove-to. It was soon ready, theboom topped up, preventer guys rove, and the idlers called up to manthe halyards; yet such was still the force of the gale, that we werenearly an hour setting the sail; carried away the outhaul in doing it, and came very near snapping off the swinging boom. No sooner was itset than the ship tore on again like one that was mad, and began tosteer as wild as a hawk. The men at the wheel were puffing and blowingat their work, and the helm was going hard up and hard down, constantly. Add to this, the gale did not lessen as the day came on, but the sun rose in clouds. A sudden lurch threw the man from theweather wheel across the deck and against the side. The mate sprang tothe wheel, and the man, regaining his feet, seized the spokes, and theyhove the wheel up just in time to save her from broaching to; thoughnearly half the studding-sail went under water; and as she came to, theboom stood up at an angle of forty five degrees. She had evidentlymore on her than she could bear; yet it was in vain to try to take itin--the clewline was not strong enough; and they were thinking ofcutting away, when another wide yaw and a come-to, snapped the guys, and the swinging boom came in, with a crash, against the lower rigging. The outhaul block gave way, and the topmast studding-sail boom bent ina manner which I never before supposed a stick could bend. I had myeye on it when the guys parted, and it made one spring and buckled upso as to form nearly a half circle, and sprang out again to its shape. 

The clewline gave way at the first pull; the cleat to which thehalyards were belayed was wrenched off, and the sail blew round thespritsail yards and head guys, which gave us a bad job to get it in. 

A half hour served to clear all away, and she was suffered to drive onwith her topmast studding-sail set, it being as much as she couldstagger under. 

During all this day and the next night, we went on under the same sail, the gale blowing with undiminished force; two men at the wheel all thetime; watch and watch, and nothing to do but to steer and look out forthe ship, and be blown along;--until the noon of the next day--

Sunday, July 24th, when we were in latitude 50° 27' S. , longitude 62°13' W. , having made four degrees of latitude in the last twenty-fourhours. Being now to northward of the Falkland Islands, the ship waskept off, north-east, for the equator; and with her head for theequator, and Cape Horn over her taffrail, she went gloriously on; everyheave of the sea leaving the Cape astern, and every hour bringing usnearer to home, and to warm weather. Many a time, when blocked up inthe ice, with everything dismal and discouraging about us, had wesaid, --if we were only fairly round, and standing north on the otherside, we should ask for no more:--and now we had it all, with a clearsea, and as much wind as a sailor could pray for. If the best part ofthe voyage is the last part, surely we had all now that we could wish. Every one was in the highest spirits, and the ship seemed as glad asany of us at getting out of her confinement. At each change of thewatch, those coming on deck asked those going below--"How does she goalong?" and got for answer, the rate, and the customary addition--"Aye!and the Boston girls have had hold of the tow-rope all the watch, andcan't haul half the slack in!" Each day the sun rose higher in thehorizon, and the nights grew shorter; and at coming on deck eachmorning, there was a sensible change in the temperature. The ice, too, began to melt from off the rigging and spars, and, except a littlewhich remained in the tops and round the hounds of the lower masts, wassoon gone. As we left the gale behind us, the reefs were shaken out ofthe topsails, and sail made as fast as she could bear it; and everytime all hands were sent to the halyards, a song was called for, and wehoisted away with a will. 

Sail after sail was added, as we drew into fine weather; and in oneweek after leaving Cape Horn, the long topgallant masts were got up, topgallant and royal yards crossed, and the ship restored to her fairproportions. 

The Southern Cross we saw no more after the first night; the MagellanClouds settled lower and lower in the horizon; and so great was ourchange of latitude each succeeding night, that we sank someconstellation in the south, and raised another in the northern horizon. 

Sunday, July 31st. At noon we were in lat. 36° 41' S. , long. 38° 08'W. ; having traversed the distance of two thousand miles, allowing forchanges of course, in nine days. A thousand miles in four days and ahalf!--This is equal to steam. 

Soon after eight o'clock, the appearance of the ship gave evidence thatthis was the first Sunday we had yet had in fine weather. As the suncame up clear, with the promise of a fair, warm day, and, as usual onSunday, there was no work going on, all hands turned-to upon clearingout the forecastle. The wet and soiled clothes which had accumulatedthere during the past month, were brought up on deck; the chests moved;brooms, buckets of water, swabs, scrubbing-brushes, and scraperscarried down, and applied, until the forecastle floor was as white aschalk, and everything neat and in order. The bedding from the berthswas then spread on deck, and dried, and aired; the deck-tub filled withwater; and a grand washing begun of all the clothes which were broughtup. Shirts, frocks, drawers, trowsers, jackets, stockings, of everyshape and color, wet and dirty--many of them mouldy from having beenlying a long time wet in a foul corner--these were all washed andscrubbed out, and finally towed overboard for half an hour; and thenmade fast in the rigging to dry. Wet boots and shoes were spread outto dry in sunny places on deck; and the whole ship looked like a backyard on a washing day. After we had done with our clothes, we beganupon our own persons. A little fresh water, which we had saved fromour allowance, was put in buckets, and with soap and towels, we hadwhat sailors call a fresh-water wash. The same bucket, to be sure, hadto go through several hands, and was spoken for by one after another, but as we rinsed off in salt water, pure from the ocean, and the freshwas used only to start the accumulated grime and blackness of fiveweeks, it was held of little consequence. 

We soaped down and scrubbed one another with towels and pieces ofcanvas, stripping to it; and then, getting into the head, threw bucketsof water upon each other. After this, came shaving, and combing, andbrushing; and when, having spent the first part of the day in this way, we sat down on the forecastle, in the afternoon, with clean ducktrowsers, and shirts on, washed, shaved, and combed, and looking adozen shades lighter for it, reading, sewing, and talking at our ease, with a clear sky and warm sun over our heads, a steady breeze over thelarboard quarter, studding-sails out alow and aloft, and all the flyingkites aboard;--we felt that we had got back into the pleasantest partof a sailor's life. At sundown the clothes were all taken down fromthe rigging--clean and dry--and stowed neatly away in our chests; andour southwesters, thick boots, guernsey frocks, and otheraccompaniments of bad weather, put out of the way, we hoped, for therest of the voyage, as we expected to come upon the coast early in theautumn. 

Notwithstanding all that has been said about the beauty of a ship underfull sail, there are very few who have ever seen a ship, literally, under all her sail. A ship coming in or going out of port, with herordinary sails, and perhaps two of three studding-sails, is commonlysaid to be under full sail; but a ship never has all her sail upon her, except when she has a light, steady breeze, very nearly, but not quite, dead aft, and so regular that it can be trusted, and is likely to lastfor some time. Then, with all her sails, light and heavy, andstudding-sails, on each side, alow and aloft, she is the most gloriousmoving object in the world. Such a sight, very few, even some who havebeen at sea a great deal, have ever beheld; for from the deck of yourown vessel you cannot see her, as you would a separate object. 

One night, while we were in these tropics, I went out to the end of theflying-jib-boom, upon some duty, and, having finished it, turned round, and lay over the boom for a long time, admiring the beauty of the sightbefore me. Being so far out from the deck, I could look at the ship, as at a separate vessel;--and there rose up from the water, supportedonly by the small black hull, a pyramid of canvas, spreading out farbeyond the hull, and towering up almost, as it seemed in the indistinctnight air, to the clouds. The sea was as still as an inland lake; thelight trade-wind was gently and steadily breathing from astern; thedark blue sky was studded with the tropical stars; there was no soundbut the rippling of the water under the stem; and the sails were spreadout, wide and high;--the two lower studding-sails stretching, on eachside, far beyond the deck; the topmast studding-sails, like wings tothe topsails; the top-gallant studding-sails spreading fearlessly outabove them; still higher, the two royal studding-sails, looking liketwo kites flying from the same string; and, highest of all, the littleskysail, the apex of the pyramid, seeming actually to touch the stars, and to be out of reach of human hand. So quiet, too, was the sea, andso steady the breeze, that if these sails had been sculptured marble, they could not have been more motionless. Not a ripple upon thesurface of the canvas; not even a quivering of the extreme edges of thesail--so perfectly were they distended by the breeze. I was so lost inthe sight, that I forgot the presence of the man who came out with me, until he said, (for he, too, rough old man-of-war's-man as he was, hadbeen gazing at the show, ) half to himself, still looking at the marblesails--"How quietly they do their work!"

The fine weather brought work with it; as the ship was to be put inorder for coming into port. This may give a landsman some notion ofwhat is done on board ship. --All the first part of a passage is spentin getting a ship ready for sea, and the last part in getting her readyfor port. She is, as sailors say, like a lady's watch, always out ofrepair. The new, strong sails, which we had up off Cape Horn, were tobe sent down, and the old set, which were still serviceable in fineweather, to be bent in their place; all the rigging to be set up, foreand aft; the masts stayed; the standing rigging to be tarred down;lower and topmast rigging rattled down, fore and aft; the ship scraped, inside and out, and painted; decks varnished; new and neat knots, seizings and coverings to be fitted; and every part put in order, tolook well to the owner's eye, on coming into Boston. This, of course, was a long matter; and all hands were kept on deck at work for thewhole of each day, during the rest of the voyage. Sailors call thishard usage; but the ship must be in crack order, and "we're homewardbound" was the answer to everything. 

We went on for several days, employed in this way, nothing remarkableoccurring; and, at the latter part of the week, fell in with thesouth-east trades, blowing about east-south-east, which brought themnearly two points abaft our beam. These blew strong and steady, sothat we hardly started a rope, until we were beyond their latitude. The first day of "all hands, " one of those little incidents occurred, which are nothing in themselves, but are great matters in the eyes of aship's company, as they serve to break the monotony of a voyage, andafford conversation to the crew for days afterwards. These smallmatters, too, are often interesting, as they show the customs and stateof feeling on shipboard. 

In merchant vessels, the captain gives his orders as to the ship'swork, to the mate, in a general way, and leaves the execution of them, with the particular ordering, to him. This has become so fixed acustom, that it is like a law, and is never infringed upon by a wisemaster, unless his mate is no seaman; in which case, the captain mustoften oversee things for himself. This, however, could not be said ofour chief mate; and he was very jealous of any encroachment upon theborders of his authority. 

On Monday morning, the captain told him to stay the fore-topmast plumb. He accordingly came forward, turned all hands to, with tackles on thestays and back-stays, coming up with the seizings, hauling here, belaying there, and full of business, standing between the knightheadsto sight the mast, --when the captain came forward, and also began togive orders. This made confusion, and the mate, finding that he wasall aback, left his place and went aft, saying to the captain--

"If you come forward, sir, I'll go aft. One is enough on theforecastle. "

This produced a reply, and another fierce answer; and the words flew, fists were doubled up, and things looked threateningly. 

"I'm master of this ship. "

"Yes, sir, and I'm mate of her, and know my place! My place isforward, and yours is aft!"

"My place is where I choose! I command the whole ship; and you aremate only so long as I choose!"

"Say the word, Capt. T. , and I'm done! I can do a man's work aboard!I didn't come through the cabin windows! If I'm not mate, I can beman, " etc. , etc. 

This was all fun for us, who stood by, winking at each other, andenjoying the contest between the higher powers. The captain took themate aft; and they had a long talk, which ended in the mate's returningto his duty. The captain had broken through a custom, which is a partof the common-law of a ship, and without reason; for he knew that hismate was a sailor, and needed no help from him; and the mate wasexcusable for being angry. Yet he was wrong, and the captain right. Whatever the captain does is right, ipso facto, and any opposition toit is wrong, on board ship; and every officer and man knows this whenhe signs the ship's articles. 

It is a part of the contract. Yet there has grown up in merchantvessels a series of customs, which have become a well understoodsystem, and have almost the force of prescriptive law. To be sure, allpower is in the captain, and the officers hold their authority onlyduring his will; and the men are liable to be called upon for anyservice; yet, by breaking in upon these usages, many difficulties haveoccurred on board ship, and even come into courts of justice, which areperfectly unintelligible to any one not acquainted with the universalnature and force of these customs. Many a provocation has beenoffered, and a system of petty oppression pursued towards men, theforce and meaning of which would appear as nothing to strangers, anddoubtless do appear so to many "'long-shore" juries and judges. 

The next little diversion, was a battle on the forecastle oneafternoon, between the mate and the steward. They had been on badterms the whole voyage; and had threatened a rupture several times. This afternoon, the mate asked him for a tumbler of water, and herefused to get it for him, saying that he waited upon nobody but thecaptain: and here he had the custom on his side. But in answering, heleft off "the handle to the mate's name. " This enraged the mate, whocalled him a "black soger;" and at it they went, clenching, striking, and rolling over and over; while we stood by, looking on, and enjoyingthe fun. The darky tried to butt him, but the mate got him down, andheld him, the steward singing out, "Let me go, Mr. Brown, or there'llbe blood spilt!" In the midst of this, the captain came on deck, separated them, took the steward aft, and gave him half a dozen with arope's end. 

The steward tried to justify himself; but he had been heard to talk ofspilling blood, and that was enough to earn him his flogging; and thecaptain did not choose to inquire any further. 

CHAPTER XXXIV

NARROW ESCAPES--THE EQUATOR--TROPICAL SQUALLS--A THUNDER STORM

The same day, I met with one of those narrow escapes, which are sooften happening in a sailor's life. I had been aloft nearly all theafternoon, at work, standing for as much as an hour on the foretop-gallant yard, which was hoisted up, and hung only by the tie; when, having got through my work, I balled up my yarns, took my serving-boardin my hand, laid hold deliberately of the top-gallant rigging, took onefoot from the yard, and was just lifting the other, when the tieparted, and down the yard fell. I was safe, by my hold upon therigging, but it made my heart beat quick. Had the tie parted oneinstant sooner, or had I stood an instant longer on the yard, I shouldinevitably have been thrown violently from the height of ninety or ahundred feet, overboard; or, what is worse, upon the deck. However, "amiss is as good as a mile;" a saying which sailors very often haveoccasion to use. An escape is always a joke on board ship. A manwould be ridiculed who should make a serious matter of it. A sailorknows too well that his life hangs upon a thread, to wish to be alwaysreminded of it; so, if a man has an escape, he keeps it to himself, ormakes a joke of it. I have often known a man's life to be saved by aninstant of time, or by the merest chance, --the swinging of a rope, --andno notice taken of it. One of our boys, when off Cape Horn, reefingtopsails of a dark night, and when there were no boats to be loweredaway, and where, if a man fell overboard he must be left behind, --losthis hold of the reef-point, slipped from the foot-rope, and would havebeen in the water in a moment, when the man who was next to him on theyard caught him by the collar of his jacket, and hauled him up upon theyard, with--"Hold on, another time, you young monkey, and be d----d toyou!"--and that was all that was heard about it. 

Sunday, August 7th. Lat. 25° 59' S. , long. 27° 0' W. Spoke theEnglish bark Mary-Catherine, from Bahia, bound to Calcutta. This wasthe first sail we had fallen in with, and the first time we had seen ahuman form or heard the human voice, except of our own number, fornearly a hundred days. The very yo-ho-ing of the sailors at the ropessounded sociably upon the ear. She was an old, damaged-looking craft, with a high poop and top-gallant forecastle, and sawed off square, stemand stern, like a true English "tea-wagon, " and with a run like asugar-box. She had studding-sails out alow and aloft, with a light butsteady breeze, and her captain said he could not get more than fourknots out of her and thought he should have a long passage. We weregoing six on an easy bowline. 

The next day, about three P. M. , passed a large corvette-built ship, close upon the wind, with royals and skysails set fore and aft, underEnglish colors. She was standing south-by-east, probably bound roundCape Horn. She had men in her tops, and black mast-heads; heavilysparred, with sails cut to a t, and other marks of a man-of-war. Shesailed well, and presented a fine appearance; the proud, aristocratic-looking banner of St. George, the cross in a blood-redfield, waving from the mizen. We probably were as fine a sight, withour studding-sails spread far out beyond the ship on either side, andrising in a pyramid to royal studding-sails and sky-sails, burying thehull in canvas, and looking like what the whale-men on the Banks, undertheir stump top-gallant masts, call "a Cape Horn-er under a cloud ofsail. "

Friday, August 12th. At daylight made the island of Trinidad, situatedin lat. 20° 28' S. , long. 29° 08' W. At twelve M. , it bore N. W. 1/2N. , distant twenty-seven miles. It was a beautiful day, the sea hardlyruffled by the light trades, and the island looking like a small bluemound rising from a field of glass. 

Such a fair and peaceful-looking spot is said to have been, for a longtime, the resort of a band of pirates, who ravaged the tropical seas. 

Thursday, August 18th. At three P. M. , made the island of FernandoNaronha, lying in lat. 3° 55' S. , long. 32° 35' W. ; and between twelveo'clock Friday night and one o'clock Saturday morning, crossed theequator, for the fourth time since leaving Boston, in long. 35° W. ;having been twenty-seven days from Staten Land--a distance, by thecourses we had made, of more than four thousand miles. 

We were now to the northward of the line, and every day added to ourlatitude. The Magellan Clouds, the last sign of South latitude, weresunk in the horizon, and the north star, the Great Bear, and thefamiliar signs of northern latitudes, were rising in the heavens. 

Next to seeing land, there is no sight which makes one realize morethat he is drawing near home, than to see the same heavens, under whichhe was born, shining at night over his head. The weather was extremelyhot, with the usual tropical alternations of a scorching sun andsqualls of rain; yet not a word was said in complaint of the heat, forwe all remembered that only three or four weeks before we would havegiven nearly our all to have been where we now were. We had plenty ofwater, too, which we caught by spreading an awning, with shot thrown into make hollows. These rain squalls came up in the manner usualbetween the tropics. --A clear sky; burning, vertical sun; work goinglazily on, and men about decks with nothing but duck trowsers, checkedshirts, and straw hats; the ship moving as lazily through the water;the man at the helm resting against the wheel, with his hat drawn overhis eyes; the captain below, taking an afternoon nap; the passengerleaning over the taffrail, watching a dolphin following slowly in ourwake; the sailmaker mending an old topsail on the lee side of thequarter-deck; the carpenter working at his bench, in the waist; theboys making sinnet; the spun-yarn winch whizzing round and round, andthe men walking slowly fore and aft with their yarns. --A cloud rises towindward, looking a little black; the sky-sails are brailed down; thecaptain puts his head out of the companion-way, looks at the cloud, comes up, and begins to walk the deck. --The cloud spreads and comeson;--the tub of yarns, the sail, and other matters, are thrown below, and the sky-light and booby-hatch put on, and the slide drawn over theforecastle. --"Stand by the royal halyards;"--the man at the wheel keepsa good weather helm, so as not to be taken aback. The squall strikesher. If it is light, the royal yards are clewed down, and the shipkeeps on her way; but if the squall takes strong hold, the royals areclewed up, fore and aft; light hands lay aloft and furl them;top-gallant yards clewed down, flying-jib hauled down, and the shipkept off before it, --the man at the helm laying out his strength toheave the wheel up to windward. At the same time a drenching rain, which soaks one through in an instant. Yet no one puts on a jacket orcap; for if it is only warm, a sailor does not mind a ducking; and thesun will soon be out again. As soon as the force of the squall haspassed, though to a common eye the ship would seem to be in the midstof it, --"Keep her up to her course, again!"--"Keep her up, sir, "(answer);--"Hoist away the top-gallant yards!"--"Run up the flyingjib!"--"Lay aloft, you boys, and loose the royals!"--and all sail is onher again before she is fairly out of the squall; and she is going onin her course. The sun comes out once more, hotter than ever, dries upthe decks and the sailors' clothes; the hatches are taken off; the sailgot up and spread on the quarter-deck; spun-yarn winch set a whirlingagain; rigging coiled up; captain goes below; and every sign of aninterruption is removed. 

These scenes, with occasional dead calms, lasting for hours, andsometimes for days, are fair specimens of the Atlantic tropics. Thenights were fine; and as we had all hands all day, the watch wereallowed to sleep on deck at night, except the man at the wheel, and onelook-out on the forecastle. This was not so much expressly allowed, aswinked at. We could do it if we did not ask leave. If the look-outwas caught napping, the whole watch was kept awake. 

We made the most of this permission, and stowed ourselves away upon therigging, under the weather rail, on the spars, under the windlass, andin all the snug corners; and frequently slept out the watch, unless wehad a wheel or a look-out. And we were glad enough to get this rest;for under the "all hands" system, out of every other thirty-six hours, we had only four below; and even an hour's sleep was a gain not to beneglected. One would have thought so, to have seen our watch, somenights, sleeping through a heavy rain. And often have we come on deck, and finding a dead calm and a light, steady rain, and determined not tolose our sleep, have laid a coil of rigging down so as to keep us outof the water which was washing about decks, and stowed ourselves awayupon it, covering a jacket over us, and slept as soundly as a Dutchmanbetween two feather beds. 

For a week or ten days after crossing the line, we had the usualvariety of calms, squalls, head winds, and fair winds;--at one timebraced sharp upon the wind, with a taught bowline, and in an hourafter, slipping quietly along, with a light breeze over the taffrail, and studding-sails out on both sides;--until we fell in with thenorth-east trade-winds; which we did on the afternoon of

Sunday, August 28th, in lat. 12° N. The trade-wind clouds had been insight for a day or two previously, and we expected to take them everyhour. The light southerly breeze, which had been blowing languidlyduring the first part of the day, died away toward noon, and in itsplace came puffs from the north-east, which caused us to take ourstudding-sails in and brace up; and in a couple of hours more, we werebowling gloriously along, dashing the spray far ahead and to leeward, with the cool, steady north-east trades, freshening up the sea, andgiving us as much as we could carry our royals to. These winds blewstrong and steady, keeping us generally upon a bowline, as our coursewas about north-north-west; and sometimes, as they veered a little tothe eastward, giving us a chance at a main top-gallant studding-sail;and sending us well to the northward, until--

Sunday, Sept. 4th, when they left us, in lat. 22° N. , long. 51° W. , directly under the tropic of Cancer. 

For several days we lay "humbugging about" in the Horse latitudes, withall sorts of winds and weather, and occasionally, as we were in thelatitude of the West Indies--a thunder storm. It was hurricane month, too, and we were just in the track of the tremendous hurricane of 1830, which swept the North Atlantic, destroying almost everything before it. The first night after the tradewinds left us, while we were in thelatitude of the island of Cuba, we had a specimen of a true tropicalthunder storm. A light breeze had been blowing directly from aftduring the first part of the night which gradually died away, andbefore midnight it was dead calm, and a heavy black cloud had shroudedthe whole sky. When our watch came on deck at twelve o'clock, it wasas black as Erebus; the studding-sails were all taken in, and theroyals furled; not a breath was stirring; the sails hung heavy andmotionless from the yards; and the perfect stillness, and the darkness, which was almost palpable, were truly appalling. Not a word wasspoken, but every one stood as though waiting for something to happen. In a few minutes the mate came forward; and in a low tone, which wasalmost a whisper, told us to haul down the jib. The fore and mizentop-gallant sails were taken in, in the same silent manner; and we laymotionless upon the water, with an uneasy expectation, which, from thelong suspense, became actually painful. We could hear the captainwalking the deck, but it was too dark to see anything more than one'shand before the face. Soon the mate came forward again, and gave anorder, in a low tone, to clew up the main top-gallant sail; and soinfectious was the awe and silence, that the clewlines and buntlineswere hauled up without any of the customary singing out at the ropes. An English lad and myself went up to furl it; and we had just got thebunt up, when the mate called out to us, something, we did not hearwhat, --but supposing it to be an order to bear-a-hand, we hurried, andmade all fast, and came down, feeling our way among the rigging. Whenwe got down we found all hands looking aloft, and there, directly overwhere we had been standing, upon the main top-gallant-mast-head, was aball of light, which the sailors name a corposant (corpus sancti), andwhich the mate had called out to us to look at. They were all watchingit carefully, for sailors have a notion that if the corposant rises inthe rigging, it is a sign of fair weather, but if it comes lower down, there will be a storm. Unfortunately, as an omen, it came down, andshowed itself on the top-gallant yard-arm. We were off the yard ingood season, for it is held a fatal sign to have the pale light of thecorposant thrown upon one's face. As it was, the English lad did notfeel comfortably at having had it so near him, and directly over hishead. In a few minutes it disappeared, and showed itself again on thefore top-gallant yard; and after playing about for some time, disappeared again; when the man on the forecastle pointed to it uponthe flying-jib-boom-end. But our attention was drawn from watchingthis, by the falling of some drops of rain and by a perceptibleincrease of the darkness, which seemed suddenly to add a new shade ofblackness to the night. In a few minutes, low, grumbling thunder washeard, and some random flashes of lightning came from the south-west. Every sail was taken in but the topsails, still, no squall appeared tobe coming. A few puffs lifted the topsails, but they fell again to themast, and all was as still as ever. A moment more, and a terrificflash and peal broke simultaneously upon us, and a cloud appeared toopen directly over our heads and let down the water in one body, like afalling ocean. We stood motionless, and almost stupefied; yet nothinghad been struck. Peal after peal rattled over our heads, with a soundwhich seemed actually to stop the breath in the body, and the "speedygleams" kept the whole ocean in a glare of light. The violent fall ofrain lasted but a few minutes, and was succeeded by occasional dropsand showers; but the lightning continued incessant for several hours, breaking the midnight darkness with irregular and blinding flashes. During all which time there was not a breath stirring, and we laymotionless, like a mark to be shot at, probably the only object on thesurface of the ocean for miles and miles. We stood hour after hour, until our watch was out, and we were relieved, at four o'clock. Duringall this time, hardly a word was spoken; no bells were struck, and thewheel was silently relieved. The rain fell at intervals in heavyshowers, and we stood drenched through and blinded by the flashes, which broke the Egyptian darkness with a brightness which seemed almostmalignant; while the thunder rolled in peals, the concussion of whichappeared to shake the very ocean. A ship is not often injured bylightning, for the electricity is separated by the great number ofpoints she presents, and the quantity of iron which she has scatteredin various parts. The electric fluid ran over our anchors, top-sailsheets and ties; yet no harm was done to us. We went below at fouro'clock, leaving things in the same state. It is not easy to sleep, when the very next flash may tear the ship in two, or set her on fire;or where the deathlike calm may be broken by the blast of a hurricane, taking the masts out of the ship. But a man is no sailor if he cannotsleep when he turns-in, and turn out when he's called. And when, atseven bells, the customary "All the larboard watch, ahoy?" brought uson deck, it was a fine, clear, sunny morning, the ship going leisurelyalong, with a good breeze and all sail set. 

CHAPTER XXXV

A DOUBLE-REEF-TOP-SAIL BREEZE--SCURVY--A FRIEND IN NEED--PREPARING FORPORT--THE GULF STREAM

From the latitude of the West Indies, until we got inside the Bermudas, where we took the westerly and south-westerly winds, which blowsteadily off the coast of the United States early in the autumn, we hadevery variety of weather, and two or three moderate gales, or, assailors call them, double-reef-topsail breezes, which came on in theusual manner, and of which one is a specimen of all. --A fine afternoon;all hands at work, some in the rigging, and others on deck; a stiffbreeze, and ship close upon the wind, and skysails braileddown. --Latter part of the afternoon, breeze increases, ship lies overto it, and clouds look windy. Spray begins to fly over the forecastle, and wets the yarns the boys are knotting;--ball them up and put thembelow. --Mate knocks off work and clears up decks earlier than usual, and orders a man who has been employed aloft to send the royal halyardsover to windward, as he comes down. Breast backstays hauled taught, and tackle got upon the martingale back-rope. --One of the boys furlsthe mizen royal. --Cook thinks there is going to be "nasty work, " andhas supper ready early. --Mate gives orders to get supper by the watch, instead of all hands, as usual. --While eating supper, hear the watch ondeck taking in the royals. --Coming on deck, find it is blowing harder, and an ugly head sea is running. --Instead of having all hands on theforecastle in the dog watch, smoking, singing, and telling yarns, onewatch goes below and turns-in, saying that it's going to be an uglynight, and two hours' sleep is not to be lost. 

Clouds look black and wild; wind rising, and ship working hard againsta heavy sea, which breaks over the forecastle, and washes aft throughthe scuppers. Still, no more sail is taken in, for the captain is adriver, and, like all drivers, very partial to his top-gallant sails. A top-gallant sail, too, makes the difference between a breeze and agale. When a top-gallant sail is on a ship, it is only a breeze, though I have seen ours set over a reefed topsail, when half thebowsprit was under water, and it was up to a man's knees in thescuppers. At eight bells, nothing is said about reefing the topsails, and the watch go below, with orders to "stand by for a call. " Weturn-in, growling at the "old man" for not reefing the topsails whenthe watch was changed, but putting it off so as to call all hands, andbreak up a whole watch below. Turn-in "all standing, " and keepourselves awake, saying there is no use in going asleep to be waked upagain. --Wind whistles on deck, and ship works hard, groaning andcreaking, and pitching into a heavy head sea, which strikes against thebows, with a noise like knocking upon a rock. --The dim lamp in theforecastle swings to and fro, and things "fetch away" and go over toleeward. --"Doesn't that booby of a second mate ever mean to take in histop-gallant sails?--He'll have the sticks out of her soon, " says oldBill, who was always growling, and, like most old sailors, did not liketo see a ship abused. --By-and-by an order is given--"Aye, aye, sir!"from the forecastle;--rigging is heaved down on deck;--the noise of asail is heard fluttering aloft, and the short, quick cry which sailorsmake when hauling upon clewlines. --"Here comes his fore-top-gallantsail in!"--We are wide awake, and know all that's going on as well asif we were on deck. --A well-known voice is heard from the mast-headsinging out the officer of the watch to haul taught the weatherbrace. --"Hallo! There's S---- aloft to furl the sail!"--Next thing, rigging is heaved down directly over our heads, and a long-drawn cryand a rattling of hanks announce that the flying-jib has come in. --Thesecond mate holds on to the main top-gallant sail until a heavy sea isshipped, and washes over the forecastle as though the whole ocean hadcome aboard; when a noise further aft shows that that sail, too, istaking in. After this, the ship is more easy for a time; two bells arestruck, and we try to get a little sleep. By-and-by, bang, bang, bang, on the scuttle--"All ha-a-ands, a ho-o-y!"--We spring out of ourberths, clap on a monkey-jacket and southwester, and tumble up theladder. --Mate up before us, and on the forecastle, singing out like aroaring bull; the captain singing out on the quarter-deck, and thesecond mate yelling, like a hyena, in the waist. The ship is lyingover half upon her beam-ends; lee scuppers under water, and forecastleall in a smother of foam. --Rigging all let go, and washing about decks;topsail yards down upon the caps, and sails flapping and beatingagainst the masts; and starboard watch hauling out the reef-tackles ofthe main topsail. Our watch haul out the fore, and lay aloft and puttwo reefs into it, and reef the foresail, and race with the starboardwatch, to see which will mast-head its topsail first. All handstally-on to the main tack, and while some are furling the jib, andhoisting the staysail, we mizen-topmen double-reef the mizen topsailand hoist it up. All being made fast--"Go below, the watch!" and weturn-in to sleep out the rest of the time, which is perhaps an hour anda half. During all the middle, and for the first part of the morningwatch, it blows as hard as ever, but toward daybreak it moderatesconsiderably, and we shake a reef out of each topsail, and set thetop-gallant sails over them and when the watch come up, at seven bells, for breakfast, shake the other reefs out, turn all hands to upon thehalyards, get the watch-tackle upon the top-gallant sheets andhalyards, set the flying-jib, and crack on to her again. 

Our captain had been married only a few weeks before he left Boston;and, after an absence of over two years, it may be supposed he was notslow in carrying sail. The mate, too, was not to be beaten by anybody;and the second mate, though he was afraid to press sail, was afraid asdeath of the captain, and being between two fears, sometimes carried onlonger than any of them. We snapped off three flying-jib booms intwenty-four hours, as fast as they could be fitted and rigged out;sprung the spritsail yard; and made nothing of studding-sail booms. Beside the natural desire to get home, we had another reason for urgingthe ship on. The scurvy had begun to show itself on board. One manhad it so badly as to be disabled and off duty, and the English lad, Ben, was in a dreadful state, and was daily growing worse. His legsswelled and pained him so that he could not walk; his flesh lost itselasticity, so that if it was pressed in, it would not return to itsshape; and his gums swelled until he could not open his mouth. Hisbreath, too, became very offensive; he lost all strength and spirit;could eat nothing; grew worse every day; and, in fact, unless somethingwas done for him, would be a dead man in a week, at the rate at whichhe was sinking. The medicines were all, or nearly all, gone; and if wehad had a chest-full, they would have been of no use; for nothing butfresh provisions and terra firma has any effect upon the scurvy. Thisdisease is not so common now as formerly; and is attributed generallyto salt provisions, want of cleanliness, the free use of grease and fat(which is the reason of its prevalence among whalemen, ) and, last ofall, to laziness. It never could have been from the latter cause onboard our ship; nor from the second, for we were a very cleanly crew, kept our forecastle in neat order, and were more particular aboutwashing and changing clothes than many better-dressed people on shore. It was probably from having none but salt provisions, and possibly fromour having run very rapidly into hot weather, after having been so longin the extremest cold. 

Depending upon the westerly winds, which prevail off the coast in theautumn, the captain stood well to the westward, to run inside of theBermudas, and in the hope of falling in with some vessel bound to theWest Indies or the Southern States. The scurvy had spread no fartheramong the crew, but there was danger that it might; and these caseswere bad ones. 

Sunday, Sept. 11th. Lat. 30° 04' N. , long. 63° 23' W. ; the Bermudasbearing north-north-west, distant one hundred and fifty miles. The nextmorning, about ten o'clock, "Sail ho!" was cried on deck; and all handsturned up to see the stranger. As she drew nearer, she proved to be anordinary-looking hermaphrodite brig, standing south-south-east; andprobably bound out, from the Northern States, to the West Indies; andwas just the thing we wished to see. She hove-to for us, seeing that wewished to speak her; and we ran down to her; boom-ended ourstudding-sails; backed our main topsail, and hailed her--"Brig, ahoy!"--"Hallo!"--"Where are you from, pray?"--"From New York, bound toCuraçoa. "--"Have you any fresh provisions to spare?"--"Aye, aye! plentyof them!" We lowered away the quarter-boat, instantly; and the captainand four hands sprang in, and were soon dancing over the water, andalongside the brig. In about half an hour, they returned with half aboat-load of potatoes and onions, and each vessel filled away, and kepton her course. She proved to be the brig Solon, of Plymouth, from theConnecticut river, and last from New York, bound to the Spanish Main, with a cargo of fresh provisions, mules, tin bake-pans, and othernotions. The onions were genuine and fresh; and the mate of the brigtold the men in the boat, as he passed the bunches over the side, thatthe girls had strung them on purpose for us the day he sailed. We hadsupposed, on board, that a new president had been chosen, the lastwinter, and, just as we filled away, the captain hailed and asked whowas president of the United States. They answered, Andrew Jackson; butthinking that the old General could not have been elected for a thirdtime, we hailed again, and they answered--Jack Downing; and left us tocorrect the mistake at our leisure. 

It was just dinner-time when we filled away; and the steward, taking afew bunches of onions for the cabin, gave the rest to us, with a bottleof vinegar. We carried them forward, stowed them away in theforecastle, refusing to have them cooked, and ate them raw, with ourbeef and bread. And a glorious treat they were. The freshness andcrispness of the raw onion, with the earthy taste, give it a greatrelish to one who has been a long time on salt provisions. 

We were perfectly ravenous after them. It was like a scent of blood toa hound. We ate them at every meal, by the dozen; and filled ourpockets with them, to eat in our watch on deck; and the bunches, risingin the form of a cone, from the largest at the bottom, to the smallest, no larger than a strawberry, at the top, soon disappeared. 

The chief use, however, of the fresh provisions, was for the men withthe scurvy. One of them was able to eat, and he soon brought himselfto, by gnawing upon raw potatoes; but the other, by this time, washardly able to open his mouth; and the cook took the potatoes raw, pounded them in a mortar, and gave him the juice to drink. This heswallowed, by the tea-spoonful at a time, and rinsed it about his gumsand throat. The strong earthy taste and smell of this extract of theraw potato at first produced a shuddering through his whole frame, andafter drinking it, an acute pain, which ran through all parts of hisbody; but knowing, by this, that it was taking strong hold, hepersevered, drinking a spoonful every hour or so, and holding it a longtime in his mouth; until, by the effect of this drink, and of his ownrestored hope, (for he had nearly given up, in despair) he became sowell as to be able to move about, and open his mouth enough to eat theraw potatoes and onions pounded into a soft pulp. This course soonrestored his appetite and strength; and in ten days after we spoke theSolon, so rapid was his recovery, that, from lying helpless and almosthopeless in his berth, he was at the mast-head, furling a royal. 

With a fine south-west wind, we passed inside of the Bermudas; andnotwithstanding the old couplet, which was quoted again and again bythose who thought we should have one more touch of a storm before ourvoyage was up, --

 "If the Bermudas let you pass, You must beware of Hatteras--"

we were to the northward of Hatteras, with good weather, and beginningto count, not the days, but the hours, to the time when we should be atanchor in Boston harbor. 

Our ship was in fine order, all hands having been hard at work upon herfrom daylight to dark, every day but Sunday, from the time we got intowarm weather on this side the Cape. 

It is a common notion with landsmen that a ship is in her finestcondition when she leaves port to enter upon her voyage; and that shecomes home, after a long absence, "With over-weathered ribs and ragged sails; Lean, rent and beggared bythe strumpet wind. "

But so far from that, unless a ship meets with some accident, or comesupon the coast in the dead of winter, when work cannot be done upon therigging, she is in her finest order at the end of the voyage. When shesails from port, her rigging is generally slack; the masts needstaying; the decks and sides are black and dirty from taking in cargo;riggers' seizings and overhand knots in place of nice seamanlike work;and everything, to a sailor's eye, adrift. 

But on the passage home, the fine weather between the tropics is spentin putting the ship into the neatest order. No merchant vessel looksbetter than an Indiaman, or a Cape Horn-er, after a long voyage; andmany captains and mates will stake their reputation for seamanship uponthe appearance of their ship when she hauls into the dock. All ourstanding rigging, fore and aft, was set up and tarred; the mastsstayed; the lower and top-mast rigging rattled down, (or up, as thefashion now is;) and so careful were our officers to keep the rattlinstaught and straight, that we were obliged to go aloft upon the ropesand shearpoles with which the rigging was swifted in; and these wereused as jury rattlins until we got close upon the coast. After this, the ship was scraped, inside and out, decks, masts, booms and all; astage being rigged outside, upon which we scraped her down to thewater-line; pounding the rust off the chains, bolts and fastenings. Then, taking two days of calm under the line, we painted her on theoutside, giving her open ports in her streak, and finishing off thenice work upon the stern, where sat Neptune in his car, holding histrident, drawn by sea-horses; and re-touched the gilding and coloringof the cornucopia which ornamented her billet-head. The inside wasthen painted, from the skysail truck to the waterways--the yards black;mast-heads and tops, white; monkey-rail, black, white, and yellow;bulwarks, green; plank-shear, white; waterways, lead color, etc. , etc. The anchors and ring-bolts, and other iron work, were blackened withcoal-tar; and the steward kept at work, polishing the brass of thewheel, bell, capstan, etc. The cabin, too, was scraped, varnished, andpainted; and the forecastle scraped and scrubbed; there being no needof paint and varnish for Jack's quarters. The decks were then scrapedand varnished, and everything useless thrown overboard; among which theempty tar barrels were set on fire and thrown overboard, on a darknight, and left blazing astern, lighting up the ocean for miles. Addto all this labor, the neat work upon the rigging;--the knots, flemish-eyes, splices, seizings, coverings, pointings, and graftings, which show a ship in crack order. The last preparation, and whichlooked still more like coming into port, was getting the anchors overthe bows, bending the cables, rowsing the hawsers up from betweendecks, and overhauling the deep-sea-lead-line. 

Thursday, September 15th. This morning the temperature and peculiarappearance of the water, the quantities of gulf-weed floating about, and a bank of clouds lying directly before us, showed that we were onthe border of the Gulf Stream. This remarkable current, runningnorth-east, nearly across the ocean, is almost constantly shrouded inclouds, and is the region of storms and heavy seas. Vessels often runfrom a clear sky and light wind, with all sail, at once into a heavysea and cloudy sky, with double-reefed topsails. A sailor told me thaton a passage from Gibraltar to Boston, his vessel neared the GulfStream with a light breeze, clear sky, and studding-sails out, alow andaloft; while, before it, was a long line of heavy, black clouds, lyinglike a bank upon the water, and a vessel coming out of it, underdouble-reefed topsails, and with royal yards sent down. As they drewnear, they began to take in sail after sail, until they were reduced tothe same condition; and, after twelve or fourteen hours of rolling andpitching in a heavy sea, before a smart gale, they ran out of the bankon the other side, and were in fine weather again, and under theirroyals and skysails. As we drew into it, the sky became cloudy, thesea high, and everything had the appearance of the going off, or thecoming on, of a storm. It was blowing no more than a stiff breeze; yetthe wind, being north-east, which is directly against the course of thecurrent, made an ugly, chopping sea, which heaved and pitched thevessel about, so that we were obliged to send down the royal yards, andto take in our light sails. At noon, the thermometer, which had beenrepeatedly lowered into the water, showed the temperature to beseventy; which was considerably above that of the air, --as is alwaysthe case in the centre of the Stream. A lad who had been at work atthe royal mast-head, came down upon the deck, and took a turn round thelong-boat; and looking very pale, said he was so sick that he couldstay aloft no longer, but was ashamed to acknowledge it to the officer. He went up again, but soon gave out and came down, and leaned over therail, "as sick as a lady passenger. "

He had been to sea several years, and had, he said, never been sickbefore. He was made so by the irregular, pitching motion of thevessel, increased by the height to which he had been above the hull, which is like the fulcrum of the lever. An old sailor, who was at workon the top-gallant yard, said he felt disagreeably all the time, andwas glad, when his job was done, to get down into the top, or upon thedeck. Another hand was sent to the royal mast-head, who staid nearlyan hour, but gave up. The work must be done, and the mate sent me. Idid very well for some time, but began at length to feel veryunpleasantly, though I had never been sick since the first two daysfrom Boston, and had been in all sorts of weather and situations. Still, I kept my place, and did not come down, until I had got throughmy work, which was more than two hours. The ship certainly never actedso badly before. She was pitched and jerked about in all manner ofways; the sails seeming to have no steadying power over her. Thetapering points of the masts made various curves and angles against thesky overhead, and sometimes, in one sweep of an instant, described anarc of more than forty-five degrees, bringing up with a sudden jerkwhich made it necessary to hold on with both hands, and then sweepingoff, in another long, irregular curve. I was not positively sick, andcame down with a look of indifference, yet was not unwilling to getupon the comparative terra firma of the deck. A few hours more carriedus through, and when we saw the sun go down, upon our larboard beam, inthe direction of the continent of North America, we had left the bankof dark, stormy clouds astern, in the twilight. 

CHAPTER XXXVI

SOUNDINGS--SIGHTS FROM HOME--BOSTON HARBOR--LEAVING THE SHIP

Friday, Sept. 16th. Lat. 38° N. , long. 69° 00' W. A fine south-westwind; every hour carrying us nearer in toward land. All hands on deckat the dog watch, and nothing talked about, but our getting in; wherewe should make the land; whether we should arrive before Sunday; goingto church; how Boston would look; friends; wages paid;--and the like. Every one was in the best of spirits; and, the voyage being nearly atan end, the strictness of discipline was relaxed; for it was notnecessary to order in a cross tone, what every one was ready to do witha will. 

The little differences and quarrels which a long voyage breeds on boarda ship, were forgotten, and every one was friendly; and two men, whohad been on the eve of a battle half the voyage, were laying out a plantogether for a cruise on shore. When the mate came forward, he talkedto the men, and said we should be on George's Bank before to-morrownoon; and joked with the boys, promising to go and see them, and totake them down to Marblehead in a coach. 

Saturday, 17th. The wind was light all day, which kept us backsomewhat; but a fine breeze springing up at nightfall, we were runningfast in toward the land. At six o'clock we expected to have the shiphove-to for soundings, as a thick fog, coming up showed we were nearthem; but no order was given, and we kept on our way. Eight o'clockcame, and the watch went below, and, for the whole of the first hour, the ship was tearing on, with studding-sails out, alow and aloft, andthe night as dark as a pocket. At two bells the captain came on deck, and said a word to the mate, when the studding sails were hauled intothe tops, or boom-ended, the after yards backed, the deep-sea-leadcarried forward, and everything got ready for sounding. A man on thespritsail yard with the lead, another on the cathead with a handful ofthe line coiled up, another in the fore chains, another in the waist, and another in the main chains, each with a quantity of the line coiledaway in his hand. "All ready there, forward?"--"Aye, aye, sir!"--"He-e-e-ave!"--"Watch! ho! watch!" sings out the man on thespritsail yard, and the heavy lead drops into the water. "Watch! ho!watch!" bawls the man on the cat-head, as the last fake of the coildrops from his hand, and "Watch! ho! watch!" is shouted by each one asthe line falls from his hold; until it comes to the mate, who tends thelead, and has the line in coils on the quarter-deck. Eighty fathoms, and no bottom! A depth as great as the height of St. Peter's! Theline is snatched in a block upon the swifter, and three or four menhaul it in and coil it away. The after yards are braced full, thestudding-sails hauled out again, and in a few minutes more the ship hadher whole way upon her. At four bells, backed again, hove the lead, and--soundings! at sixty fathoms! Hurrah for Yankee land! Hand overhand, we hauled the lead in, and the captain, taking it to the light, found black mud on the bottom. 

Studding-sails taken in; after yards filled, and ship kept on undereasy sail all night; the wind dying away. 

The soundings on the American coast are so regular that a navigatorknows as well where he has made land, by the soundings, as he would byseeing the land. Black mud is the soundings of Block Island. As yougo toward Nantucket, it changes to a dark sand; then, sand and whiteshells; and on George's Banks, white sand; and so on. Being off BlockIsland, our course was due east, to Nantucket Shoals, and the SouthChannel; but the wind died away and left us becalmed in a thick fog, inwhich we lay the whole of Sunday. At noon of

Sunday, 18th, Block Island bore, by calculation, N. W. 1/4 W. Fifteenmiles; but the fog was so thick all day that we could see nothing. 

Having got through the ship's duty, and washed and shaved, we wentbelow, and had a fine time overhauling our chests, laying aside theclothes we meant to go ashore in and throwing overboard all that wereworn out and good for nothing. Away went the woollen caps in which wehad carried hides upon our heads, for sixteen months, on the coast ofCalifornia; the duck frocks, for tarring down rigging; and the worn-outand darned mittens and patched woollen trowsers which had stood the tugof Cape Horn. 

We hove them overboard with a good will; for there is nothing likebeing quit of the very last appendages and remnants of our evilfortune. We got our chests all ready for going ashore, ate the last"duff" we expected to have on board the ship Alert; and talked asconfidently about matters on shore as though our anchor were on thebottom. 

"Who'll go to church with me a week from to-day?"

"I will, " says Jack; who said aye to everything. 

"Go away, salt water!" says Tom. "As soon as I get both legs ashore, I'm going to shoe my heels, and button my ears behind me, and start offinto the bush, a straight course, and not stop till I'm out of thesight of salt water!"

"Oh! belay that! Spin that yarn where nobody knows your filling! Ifyou get once moored, stem and stern, in old B----'s grog-shop, with acoal fire ahead and the bar under your lee, you won't see daylight forthree weeks!"

"No!" says Tom, "I'm going to knock off grog, and go and board at theHome, and see if they won't ship me for a deacon!"

"And I, " says Bill, "am going to buy a quadrant and ship for navigatorof a Hingham packet!"

These and the like jokes served to pass the time while we were lyingwaiting for a breeze to clear up the fog and send us on our way. 

Toward night a moderate breeze sprang up; the fog however continuing asthick as before; and we kept on to the eastward. About the middle ofthe first watch, a man on the forecastle sang out, in a tone whichshowed that there was not a moment to be lost, --"Hard up the helm!" anda great ship loomed up out of the fog, coming directly down upon us. She luffed at the same moment, and we just passed one another; ourspanker boom grazing over her quarter. The officer of the deck hadonly time to hail, and she answered, as she went into the fog again, something about Bristol--probably, a whaleman from Bristol, RhodeIsland, bound out. The fog continued through the night, with a verylight breeze, before which we ran to the eastward, literally feelingour way along. The lead was heaved every two hours, and the gradualchange from black mud to sand, showed that we were approachingNantucket South Shoals. On Monday morning, the increased depth anddeep blue color of the water, and the mixture of shells and white sandwhich we brought up, upon sounding, showed that we were in the channel, and nearing George's; accordingly, the ship's head was put directly tothe northward, and we stood on, with perfect confidence in thesoundings, though we had not taken an observation for two days, norseen land; and the difference of an eighth of a mile out of the waymight put us ashore. Throughout the day a provokingly light windprevailed, and at eight o'clock, a small fishing schooner, which wepassed, told us we were nearly abreast of Chatham lights. 

Just before midnight, a light land-breeze sprang up, which carried uswell along; and at four o'clock, thinking ourselves to the northward ofRace Point, we hauled upon the wind and stood into the bay, west-north-west, for Boston light, and commenced firing guns for apilot. Our watch went below at four o'clock, but could not sleep, forthe watch on deck were banging away at the guns every few minutes. And, indeed, we cared very little about it, for we were in Boston Bay;and if fortune favored us, we could all "sleep in" the next night, withnobody to call the watch every four hours. 

We turned out, of our own will, at daybreak, to get a sight of land. 

In the grey of the morning, one or two small fishing smacks peered outof the mist; and when the broad day broke upon us, there lay the lowsand-hills of Cape Cod, over our larboard quarter, and before us, thewide waters of Massachusetts Bay, with here and there a sail glidingover its smooth surface. As we drew in toward the mouth of the harbor, as toward a focus, the vessels began to multiply until the bay seemedactually alive with sails gliding about in every direction; some on thewind, and others before it, as they were bound to or from the emporiumof trade and centre of the bay. It was a stirring sight for us, who hadbeen months on the ocean without seeing anything but two solitarysails; and over two years without seeing more than the three or fourtraders on an almost desolate coast. There were the little coasters, bound to and from the various towns along the south shore, down in thebight of the bay, and to the eastward; here and there a square-riggedvessel standing out to seaward; and, far in the distance, beyond CapeAnn, was the smoke of a steamer, stretching along in a narrow, blackcloud upon the water. Every sight was full of beauty and interest. Wewere coming back to our homes; and the signs of civilization, andprosperity, and happiness, from which we had been so long banished, were multiplying about us. The high land of Cape Ann and the rocks andshore of Cohasset were full in sight, the lighthouses, standing likesentries in white before the harbors, and even the smoke from thechimney on the plains of Hingham was seen rising slowly in the morningair. One of our boys was the son of a bucket-maker; and his facelighted up as he saw the tops of the well-known hills which surroundhis native place. About ten o'clock a little boat came bobbing overthe water, and put a pilot on board, and sheered off in pursuit ofother vessels bound in. 

Being now within the scope of the telegraph stations, our signals wererun up at the fore, and in half an hour afterwards, the owner on'change, or in his counting-room, knew that his ship was below; and thelandlords, runners, and sharks in Ann street learned that there was arich prize for them down in the bay: a ship from round the Horn, with acrew to be paid off with two years' wages. 

The wind continuing very light, all hands were sent aloft to strip offthe chafing gear; and battens, parcellings, roundings, hoops, mats, andleathers, came flying from aloft, and left the rigging neat and clean, stripped of all its sea bandaging. The last touch was put to thevessel by painting the skysail poles; and I was sent up to the fore, with a bucket of white paint and a brush, and touched her off, from thetruck to the eyes of the royal rigging. At noon, we lay becalmed offthe lower light-house; and it being about slack water, we made littleprogress. A firing was heard in the direction of Hingham, and thepilot said there was a review there. 

The Hingham boy got wind of this, and said if the ship had been twelvehours sooner, he should have been down among the soldiers, and in thebooths, and having a grand time. As it was, we had little prospect ofgetting in before night. About two o'clock a breeze sprang up ahead, from the westward, and we began beating up against it. A full-riggedbrig was beating in at the same time, and we passed one another, in ourtacks, sometimes one and sometimes the other, working to windward, asthe wind and tide favored or opposed. It was my trick at the wheelfrom two till four; and I stood my last helm, making between ninehundred and a thousand hours which I had spent at the helms of our twovessels. The tide beginning to set against us, we made slow work; andthe afternoon was nearly spent, before we got abreast of the innerlight. In the meantime, several vessels were coming down, outwardbound; among which, a fine, large ship, with yards squared, fair windand fair tide, passed us like a race-horse, the men running out uponher yards to rig out the studding-sail booms. Toward sundown the windcame off in flaws, sometimes blowing very stiff, so that the pilot tookin the royals, and then it died away; when, in order to get us inbefore the tide became too strong, the royals were set again. As thiskept us running up and down the rigging all the time, one hand was sentaloft at each mast-head, to stand-by to loose and furl the sails, atthe moment of the order. I took my place at the fore, and loosed andfurled the royal five times between Rainsford Island and the Castle. At one tack we ran so near to Rainsford Island, that, looking down fromthe royal yard, the island, with its hospital buildings, nice gravelledwalks, and green plats, seemed to lie directly under our yard-arms. Soclose is the channel to some of these islands, that we ran the end ofour flying-jib-boom over one of the out-works of the fortifications onGeorge's Island; and had an opportunity of seeing the advantages ofthat point as a fortified place; for, in working up the channel, wepresented a fair stem and stern, for raking, from the batteries, threeor four times. One gun might have knocked us to pieces. 

We had all set our hearts upon getting up to town before night andgoing ashore, but the tide beginning to run strong against us, and thewind, what there was of it, being ahead, we made but little byweather-bowing the tide, and the pilot gave orders to cock-bill theanchor and overhaul the chain. Making two long stretches, whichbrought us into the roads, under the lee of the castle, he clewed upthe topsails, and let go the anchor; and for the first time sinceleaving San Diego, --one hundred and thirty-five days--our anchor wasupon bottom. In half an hour more, we were lying snugly, with allsails furled, safe in Boston harbor; our long voyage ended; thewell-known scene about us; the dome of the State House fading in thewestern sky; the lights of the city starting into sight, as thedarkness came on; and at nine o'clock the clangor of the bells, ringingtheir accustomed peals; among which the Boston boys tried todistinguish the well-known tone of the Old South. 

We had just done furling the sails, when a beautiful littlepleasure-boat luffed up into the wind, under our quarter, and thejunior partner of the firm to which our ship belonged, jumped on board. I saw him from the mizen topsail yard, and knew him well. 

He shook the captain by the hand, and went down into the cabin, and ina few moments came up and inquired of the mate for me. 

The last time I had seen him, I was in the uniform of an undergraduateof Harvard College, and now, to his astonishment, there came down fromaloft a "rough alley" looking fellow, with duck trowsers and red shirt, long hair, and face burnt as black as an Indian's. He shook me by thehand, congratulated me upon my return and my appearance of health andstrength, and said my friends were all well. I thanked him for tellingme what I should not have dared to ask; and if--

 "the first bringer of unwelcome news Hath but a losing office; and his tongue Sounds ever after like a sullen bell--"

certainly I shall ever remember this man and his words with pleasure. 

The captain went up to town in the boat with Mr. H----, and left us topass another night on board ship, and to come up with the morning'stide under command of the pilot. 

So much did we feel ourselves to be already at home, in anticipation, that our plain supper of hard bread and salt beef was barely touched;and many on board, to whom this was the first voyage, could scarcelysleep. As for myself, by one of those anomalous changes of feeling ofwhich we are all the subjects, I found that I was in a state ofindifference, for which I could by no means account. A year before, while carrying hides on the coast, the assurance that in a twelvemonthwe should see Boston, made me half wild; but now that I was actuallythere, and in sight of home, the emotions which I had so longanticipated feeling, I did not find, and in their place was a state ofvery nearly entire apathy. Something of the same experience wasrelated to me by a sailor whose first voyage was one of five years uponthe North-west Coast. He had left home, a lad, and after several yearsof very hard and trying experience, found himself homeward bound; andsuch was the excitement of his feelings that, during the whole passage, he could talk and think of nothing else but his arrival, and how andwhen he should jump from the vessel and take his way directly home. Yet when the vessel was made fast to the wharf and the crew dismissed, he seemed suddenly to lose all feeling about the matter. He told methat he went below and changed his dress; took some water from thescuttle-butt and washed himself leisurely; overhauled his chest, andput his clothes all in order; took his pipe from its place, filled it, and sitting down upon his chest, smoked it slowly for the last time. Here he looked round upon the forecastle in which he had spent so manyyears, and being alone and his shipmates scattered, he began to feelactually unhappy. Home became almost a dream; and it was not until hisbrother (who had heard of the ship's arrival) came down into theforecastle and told him of things at home, and who were waiting thereto see him, that he could realize where he was, and feel interestenough to put him in motion toward that place for which he had longed, and of which he had dreamed, for years. There is probably so much ofexcitement in prolonged expectation, that the quiet realizing of itproduces a momentary stagnation of feeling as well as of effort. Itwas a good deal so with me. The activity of preparation, the rapidprogress of the ship, the first making land, the coming up the harbor, and old scenes breaking upon the view, produced a mental as well asbodily activity, from which the change to a perfect stillness, whenboth expectation and the necessity of labor failed, left a calmness, almost of indifference, from which I must be roused by some newexcitement. And the next morning, when all hands were called, and wewere busily at work, clearing the decks, and getting everything inreadiness for going up to the wharves, --loading the guns for a salute, loosing the sails, and manning the windlass--mind and body seemed towake together. 

About ten o'clock, a sea-breeze sprang up, and the pilot gave orders toget the ship under weigh. All hands manned the windlass, and thelong-drawn "Yo, heave, ho!" which we had last heard dying away amongthe desolate hills of San Diego, soon brought the anchor to the bows;and, with a fair wind and tide, a bright sunny morning, royals andsky-sails set, ensign, streamer, signals, and pennant, flying, and withour guns firing, we came swiftly and handsomely up to the city. Offthe end of the wharf, we rounded-to and let go our anchor; and nosooner was it on the bottom, than the decks were filled with people:custom-house officers; Topliff's agent, to inquire for news; others, inquiring for friends on board, or left upon the coast; dealers ingrease, besieging the galley to make a bargain with the cook for hisslush; "loafers" in general; and last and chief, boarding-houserunners, to secure their men. 

Nothing can exceed the obliging disposition of these runners, and theinterest they take in a sailor returned from a long voyage with aplenty of money. Two or three of them, at different times, took me bythe hand; remembered me perfectly; were quite sure I had boarded withthem before I sailed; were delighted to see me back; gave me theircards; had a hand-cart waiting on the wharf, on purpose to take mythings up: would lend me a hand to get my chest ashore; bring a bottleof grog on board if we did not haul in immediately, --and the like. Infact, we could hardly get clear of them, to go aloft and furl thesails. Sail after sail, for the hundredth time, in fair weather and infoul, we furled now for the last time together, and came down and tookthe warp ashore, manned the capstan, and with a chorus which waked uphalf the North End, and rang among the buildings in the dock, we hauledher in to the wharf. Here, too, the landlords and runners were activeand ready, taking a bar to the capstan, lending a hand at the ropes, laughing and talking and telling the news. The city bells were justringing one when the last turn was made fast, and the crew dismissed;and in five minutes more, not a soul was left on board the good shipAlert, but the old ship-keeper, who had come down from thecounting-house to take charge of her. 

CONCLUDING CHAPTER

I trust that they who have followed me to the end of my narrative, willnot refuse to carry their attention a little farther, to the concludingremarks which I here present to them. 

This chapter is written after the lapse of a considerable time sincethe end of my voyage, and after a return to my former pursuits; and init I design to offer those views of what may be done for seamen, and ofwhat is already doing, which I have deduced from my experiences, andfrom the attention which I have since gladly given to the subject. 

The romantic interest which many take in the sea, and in those who liveupon it, may be of use in exciting their attention to this subject, though I cannot but feel sure that all who have followed me in mynarrative must be convinced that the sailor has no romance in hisevery-day life to sustain him, but that it is very much the same plain, matter-of-fact drudgery and hardship, which would be experienced onshore. If I have not produced this conviction, I have failed inpersuading others of what my own experience has most fully impressedupon myself. 

There is a witchery in the sea, its songs and stories, and in the meresight of a ship, and the sailor's dress, especially to a young mind, which has done more to man navies, and fill merchantmen, than all thepress-gangs of Europe. I have known a young man with such a passionfor the sea, that the very creaking of a block stirred up hisimagination so that he could hardly keep his feet on dry ground; andmany are the boys, in every seaport, who are drawn away, as by analmost irresistible attraction, from their work and schools, and hangabout the decks and yards of vessels, with a fondness which, it isplain, will have its way. No sooner, however, has the young sailorbegun his new life in earnest, than all this fine drapery falls off, and he learns that it is but work and hardship, after all. This is thetrue light in which a sailor's life is to be viewed; and if in ourbooks, and anniversary speeches, we would leave out much that is saidabout "blue water, " "blue jackets, " "open hearts, " "seeing God's handon the deep, " and so forth, and take this up like any other practicalsubject, I am quite sure we should do full as much for those we wish tobenefit. The question is, what can be done for sailors, as theyare, --men to be fed, and clothed, and lodged, for whom laws must bemade and executed, and who are to be instructed in useful knowledge, and, above all, to be brought under religious influence and restraint?It is upon these topics that I wish to make a few observations. 

In the first place, I have no fancies about equality on board ship, Itis a thing out of the question, and certainly, in the present state ofmankind, not to be desired. I never knew a sailor who found fault withthe orders and ranks of the service; and if I expected to pass the restof my life before the mast, I would not wish to have the power of thecaptain diminished an iota. It is absolutely necessary that thereshould be one head and one voice, to control everything, and beresponsible for everything. There are emergencies which require theinstant exercise of extreme power. These emergencies do not allow ofconsultation; and they who would be the captain's constituted advisersmight be the very men over whom he would be called upon to exert hisauthority. It has been found necessary to vest in every government, even the most democratic, some extraordinary, and, at first sight, alarming powers; trusting in public opinion, and subsequentaccountability to modify the exercise of them. These are provided tomeet exigencies, which all hope may never occur, but which yet bypossibility may occur, and if they should, and there were no power tomeet them instantly, there would be an end put to the government atonce. So it is with the authority of the shipmaster. It will notanswer to say that he shall never do this and that thing, because itdoes not seem always necessary and advisable that it should be done. He has great cares and responsibilities; is answerable for everything;and is subject to emergencies which perhaps no other man exercisingauthority among civilized people is subject to. Let him, then, havepowers commensurate with his utmost possible need; only let him be heldstrictly responsible for the exercise of them. Any other course wouldbe injustice, as well as bad policy. 

In the treatment of those under his authority, the captain is amenableto the common law, like any other person. He is liable at common lawfor murder, assault and battery, and other offences; and in addition tothis, there is a special statute of the United States which makes acaptain or other officer liable to imprisonment for a term notexceeding five years, and to a fine not exceeding a thousand dollars, for inflicting any cruel punishment upon, withholding food from, or inany other way maltreating a seaman. This is the state of the law onthe subject; while the relation in which the parties stand, and thepeculiar necessities, excuses, and provocations arising from thatrelation, are merely circumstances to be considered in each case. Asto the restraints upon the master's exercise of power, the lawsthemselves seem, on the whole, to be sufficient. I do not see that weare in need, at present, of more legislation on the subject. Thedifficulty lies rather in the administration of the laws; and this iscertainly a matter that deserves great consideration, and one of nolittle embarrassment. 

In the first place, the courts have said that public policy requiresthe power of the master and officers should be sustained. Many livesand a great amount of property are constantly in their hands, for whichthey are strictly responsible. To preserve these, and to deal justlyby the captain, and not lay upon him a really fearful responsibility, and then tie up his hands, it is essential that discipline should besupported. In the second place, there is always great allowance to bemade for false swearing and exaggeration by seamen, and forcombinations among them against their officers; and it is to beremembered that the latter have often no one to testify on their side. These are weighty and true statements, and should not be lost sight ofby the friends of seamen. On the other hand, sailors make manycomplaints, some of which are well founded. 

On the subject of testimony, seamen labor under a difficulty full asgreat as that of the captain. It is a well-known fact, that they areusually much better treated when there are passengers on board. 

The presence of passengers is a restraint upon the captain, not onlyfrom his regard to their feelings and to the estimation in which theymay hold him, but because he knows they will be influential witnessesagainst him if he is brought to trial. Though officers may sometimes beinclined to show themselves off before passengers, by freaks of officeand authority, yet cruelty they would hardly dare to be guilty of. Itis on long and distant voyages, where there is no restraint upon thecaptain, and none but the crew to testify against him, that sailorsneed most the protection of the law. On such voyages as these, thereare many cases of outrageous cruelty on record, enough to make oneheartsick, and almost disgusted with the sight of man; and many, manymore, which have never come to light, and never will be known, untilthe sea shall give up its dead. Many of these have led to mutiny andpiracy, --stripe for stripe, and blood for blood. If on voyages of thisdescription the testimony of seamen is not to be received in favor ofone another, or too great a deduction is made on account of their beingseamen, their case is without remedy; and the captain, knowing this, will be strengthened in that disposition to tyrannize which thepossession of absolute power, without the restraints of friends andpublic opinion, is too apt to engender. 

It is to be considered, also, that the sailor comes into court undervery different circumstances from the master. He is thrown amonglandlords, and sharks of all descriptions; is often led to drinkfreely; and comes upon the stand unaided, and under a certain cloud ofsuspicion as to his character and veracity. The captain, on the otherhand, is backed by the owners and insurers, and has an air of greaterrespectability; though, after all, he may have but a little bettereducation than the sailor, and sometimes, (especially among thoseengaged in certain voyages that I could mention) a very hackneyedconscience. 

These are the considerations most commonly brought up on the subject ofseamen's evidence; and I think it cannot but be obvious to every onethat here, positive legislation would be of no manner of use. Therecan be no rule of law regulating the weight to be given to seamen'sevidence. It must rest in the mind of the judge and jury; and noenactment or positive rule of court could vary the result a hair, inany one case. The effect of a sailor's testimony in deciding a casemust depend altogether upon the reputation of the class to which hebelongs, and upon the impression he himself produces in court by hisdeportment, and by those infallible marks of character which alwaystell upon a jury. 

In fine, after all the well-meant and specious projects that have beenbrought forward, we seem driven back to the belief, that the best meansof securing a fair administration of the laws made for the protectionof seamen, and certainly the only means which can create any importantchange for the better, is the gradual one of raising the intellectualand religious character of the sailor, so that as an individual and asone of a class, he may, in the first instance, command the respect ofhis officers, and if any difficulty should happen, may upon the standcarry that weight which an intelligent and respectable man of the lowerclass almost always does with a jury. I know there are many men who, when a few cases of great hardship occur, and it is evident that thereis an evil somewhere, think that some arrangement must be made, somelaw passed, or some society got up, to set all right at once. On thissubject there can be no call for any such movement; on the contrary, Ifully believe that any public and strong action would do harm, and thatwe must be satisfied to labor in the less easy and less exciting taskof gradual improvement, and abide the issue of things working slowlytogether for good. 

Equally injudicious would be any interference with the economy of theship. The lodging, food, hours of sleep, etc. , are all matters which, though capable of many changes for the better, must yet be left toregulate themselves. And I am confident that there will be, and thatthere is now a gradual improvement in all such particulars. Theforecastles of most of our ships are small, black, and wet holes, whichfew landsmen would believe held a crew of ten or twelve men on a voyageof months or years; and often, indeed in most cases, the provisions arenot good enough to make a meal anything more than a necessary part of aday's duty;[1] and on the score of sleep, I fully believe that thelives of merchant seamen are shortened by the want of it. I do notrefer to those occasions when it is necessarily broken in upon; but, for months, during fine weather, in many merchantmen, all hands arekept, throughout the day, and, then, there are eight hours on deck forone watch each night. Thus it is usually the case that at the end of avoyage, where there has been the finest weather, and no disaster, thecrew have a wearied and worn-out appearance. They never sleep longerthan four hours at a time, and are seldom called without being reallyin need of more rest. There is no one thing that a sailor thinks moreof as a luxury of life on shore, than a whole night's sleep. Still, all these things must be left to be gradually modified by circumstances. 

Whenever hard cases occur, they should be made known, and masters andowners should be held answerable, and will, no doubt, in time, beinfluenced in their arrangements and discipline by the increasedconsideration in which sailors are held by the public. 

It is perfectly proper that the men should live in a different part ofthe vessel from the officers; and if the forecastle is made large andcomfortable, there is no reason why the crew should not live there aswell as in any other part. In fact, sailors prefer the forecastle. Itis their accustomed place, and in it they are out of the sight andhearing of their officers. 

As to their food and sleep, there are laws, with heavy penalties, requiring a certain amount of stores to be on board, and safely stowed;and, for depriving the crew unnecessarily of food or sleep, the captainis liable at common law, as well as under the statute before referredto. Farther than this, it would not be safe to go. 

The captain must be the judge when it is necessary to keep his crewfrom their sleep; and sometimes a retrenching, not of the necessaries, but of some of the little niceties of their meals, as, for instance, duff on Sunday, may be a mode of punishment, though I think generallyan injudicious one. 

I could not do justice to this subject without noticing one part of thediscipline of a ship, which has been very much discussed of late, andhas brought out strong expressions of indignation from many, --I meanthe infliction of corporal punishment. Those who have followed me inmy narrative will remember that I was witness to an act of greatcruelty inflicted upon my own shipmates; and indeed I can sincerely saythat the simple mention of the word flogging, brings up in me feelingswhich I can hardly control. Yet, when the proposition is made toabolish it entirely and at once; to prohibit the captain from ever, under any circumstances, inflicting corporal punishment; I am obligedto pause, and, I must say, to doubt exceedingly the expediency ofmaking any positive enactment which shall have that effect. If thedesign of those who are writing on this subject is merely to drawpublic attention to it, and to discourage the practice of flogging, andbring it into disrepute, it is well; and, indeed, whatever may be theend they have in view, the mere agitation of the question will havethat effect, and, so far, must do good. Yet I should not wish to takethe command of a ship to-morrow, running my chance of a crew, as mostmasters must, and know, and have my crew know, that I could not, underany circumstances, inflict even moderate chastisement. I should trustthat I might never have to resort to it; and, indeed, I scarcely knowwhat risk I would not run, and to what inconvenience I would notsubject myself, rather than do so. Yet not to have the power ofholding it up in terrorem, and indeed of protecting myself, and allunder my charge, by it, if some extreme case should arise, would be asituation I should not wish to be placed in myself, or to take theresponsibility of placing another in. 

Indeed, the difficulties into which masters and officers are liable tobe thrown, are not sufficiently considered by many whose sympathies areeasily excited by stories, frequent enough, and true enough ofoutrageous abuse of this power. It is to be remembered that more thanthree-fourths of the seamen in our merchant vessels are foreigners. They are from all parts of the world. A great many from the north ofEurope, beside Frenchmen, Spaniards, Portuguese, Italians, men from allparts of the Mediterranean, together with Lascars, Negroes, and, perhaps worst of all, the off-casts of British men-of-war, and men fromour own country who have gone to sea because they could not bepermitted to live on land. 

As things now are, many masters are obliged to sail without knowinganything of their crews, until they get out at sea. There may bepirates or mutineers among them; and one bad man will often infect allthe rest; and it is almost certain that some of them will be ignorantforeigners, hardly understanding a word of our language, accustomed alltheir lives to no influence but force, and perhaps nearly as familiarwith the use of the knife as with that of the marline-spike. Noprudent master, however peaceably inclined, would go to sea without hispistols and handcuffs. Even with such a crew as I have supposed, kindness and moderation would be the best policy, and the duty of everyconscientious man; and the administering of corporal punishment mightbe dangerous, and of doubtful use. But the question is not, what acaptain ought generally to do, but whether it shall be put out of thepower of every captain, under any circumstances, to make use of, evenmoderate, chastisement. As the law now stands, a parent may correctmoderately his child, and the master his apprentice; and the case ofthe shipmaster has been placed upon the same principle. The statutes, and the common law as expounded in the decisions of courts, and in thebooks of commentators, are express and unanimous to this point, thatthe captain may inflict moderate corporal chastisement, for areasonable cause. If the punishment is excessive, or the cause notsufficient to justify it, he is answerable; and the jury are todetermine, by their verdict in each case, whether, under all thecircumstances, the punishment was moderate, and for a justifiable cause. 

This seems to me to be as good a position as the whole subject can beleft in. I mean to say, that no positive enactment, going beyond this, is needed, or would be a benefit either to masters or men, in thepresent state of things. This again would seem to be a case whichshould be left to the gradual working of its own cure. As seamenimprove, punishment will become less necessary; and as the character ofofficers is raised, they will be less ready to inflict it; and, stillmore, the infliction of it upon intelligent and respectable men, willbe an enormity which will not be tolerated by public opinion, and byjuries, who are the pulse of the body politic. No one can have agreater abhorrence of the infliction of such punishment than I have, and a stronger conviction that severity is bad policy with a crew; yetI would ask every reasonable man whether he had not better trust to thepractice becoming unnecessary and disreputable; to the measure ofmoderate chastisement and a justifiable cause being better understood, and thus, the act becoming dangerous, and in course of time to beregarded as an unheard-of barbarity--than to take the responsibility ofprohibiting it, at once, in all cases, and in what ever degree, bypositive enactment?

There is, however, one point connected with the administration ofjustice to seamen, to which I wish seriously to call the attention ofthose interested in their behalf, and, if possible, also of some ofthose concerned in that administration. This is, the practice whichprevails of making strong appeals to the jury in mitigation of damages, or to the judge, after a verdict has been rendered against a captain orofficer, for a lenient sentence, on the grounds of their previous goodcharacter, and of their being poor, and having friends and familiesdepending upon them for support. These appeals have been allowed aweight which is almost incredible, and which, I think, works a greaterhardship upon seamen than any one other thing in the laws, or theexecution of them. Notwithstanding every advantage the captain hasover the seaman in point of evidence, friends, money, and able counsel, it becomes apparent that he must fail in his defence. An appeal isthen made to the jury, if it is a civil action, or to the judge for amitigated sentence, if it is a criminal prosecution, on the two groundsI have mentioned. The same form is usually gone through in every case. In the first place, as to the previous good character of the party. Witnesses are brought from the town in which he resides, to testify tohis good character, and to his unexceptionable conduct when on shore. They say that he is a good father, or husband, or son, or neighbor, andthat they never saw in him any signs of a cruel or tyrannicaldisposition. I have even known evidence admitted to show the characterhe bore when a boy at school. The owners of the vessel, and othermerchants, and perhaps the president of the insurance company, are thenintroduced; and they testify to his correct deportment, express theirconfidence in his honesty, and say that they have never seen anythingin his conduct to justify a suspicion of his being capable of crueltyor tyranny. This evidence is then put together, and great stress islaid upon the extreme respectability of those who give it. They arethe companions and neighbors of the captain, it is said, --men who knowhim in his business and domestic relations, and who knew him in hisearly youth. They are also men of the highest standing in thecommunity, and who, as the captain's employers, must be supposed toknow his character. This testimony is then contrasted with that ofsome half dozen obscure sailors, who, the counsel will not forget toadd, are exasperated against the captain because he has found itnecessary to punish them moderately, and who have combined against him, and if they have not fabricated a story entirely, have at least soexaggerated it, that little confidence can be placed in it. 

The next thing to be done is to show to the court and jury that thecaptain is a poor man, and has a wife and family, or other friends, depending upon him for support; that if he is fined, it will only betaking bread from the mouths of the innocent and helpless, and laying aburden upon them which their whole lives will not be able to work off;and that if he is imprisoned, the confinement, to be sure, he will haveto bear, but the distress consequent upon the cutting him off from hislabor and means of earning his wages, will fall upon a poor wife andhelpless children, or upon an infirm parent. These two topics, wellput, and urged home earnestly, seldom fail of their effect. 

In deprecation of this mode of proceeding, and in behalf of men who Ibelieve are every day wronged by it, I would urge a few considerationswhich seem to me to be conclusive. 

First, as to the evidence of the good character the captain sustains onshore. It is to be remembered that masters of vessels have usuallybeen brought up in a forecastle; and upon all men, and especially uponthose taken from lower situations, the conferring of absolute power istoo apt to work a great change. There are many captains whom I know tobe cruel and tyrannical men at sea, who yet, among their friends, andin their families, have never lost the reputation they bore inchildhood. In fact, the sea-captain is seldom at home, and when he is, his stay is short, and during the continuance of it he is surrounded byfriends who treat him with kindness and consideration, and he haseverything to please, and at the same time to restrain him. He wouldbe a brute indeed, if, after an absence of months or years, during hisshort stay, so short that the novelty and excitement of it has hardlytime to wear off, and the attentions he receives as a visitor andstranger hardly time to slacken, --if, under such circumstances, atownsman or neighbor would be justified in testifying against hiscorrect and peaceable deportment. With the owners of the vessel, also, to which he is attached, and among merchants and insurers generally, heis a very different man from what he may be at sea, when his ownmaster, and the master of everybody and everything about him. He knowsthat upon such men, and their good opinion of him, he depends for hisbread. So far from their testimony being of any value in determiningwhat his conduct would be at sea, one would expect that the master whowould abuse and impose upon a man under his power, would be the mostcompliant and deferential to his employers at home. 

As to the appeal made in the captain's behalf on the ground of hisbeing poor and having persons depending upon his labor for support, themain and fatal objection to it is, that it will cover every case of thekind, and exempt nearly the whole body of masters and officers from thepunishment the law has provided for them. There are very few, if anymasters or other officers of merchantmen in our country, who are notpoor men, and having either parents, wives, children, or otherrelatives, depending mainly or wholly upon their exertions for supportin life. Few others follow the sea for subsistence. Now if thisappeal is to have weight with courts in diminishing the penalty the lawwould otherwise inflict, is not the whole class under a privilege whichwill, in a degree, protect it in wrong-doing? It is not a thing thathappens now and then. It is the invariable appeal, the last resort, ofcounsel, when everything else has failed. I have known cases of themost flagrant nature, where after every effort has been made for thecaptain, and yet a verdict rendered against him, and all other hopefailed, this appeal has been urged, and with such success that thepunishment has been reduced to something little more than nominal, thecourt not seeming to consider that it might be made in almost everysuch case that could come before them. It is a little singular, too, that it seems to be confined to cases of shipmasters and officers. Noone ever heard of a sentence, for an offence committed on shore, beingreduced by the court on the ground of the prisoner's poverty, and therelation in which he may stand to third persons. On the contrary, ithad been thought that the certainty that disgrace and suffering will bebrought upon others as well as himself, is one of the chief restraintsupon the criminally disposed. Besides, this course works a peculiarhardship in the case of the sailor. For if poverty is the point inquestion, the sailor is the poorer of the two; and if there is a man onearth who depends upon whole limbs and an unbroken spirit for support, it is the sailor. He, too, has friends to whom his hard earnings maybe a relief, and whose hearts will bleed at any cruelty or indignitypractised upon him. Yet I never knew this side of the case to be onceadverted to in these arguments addressed to the leniency of the court, which are now so much in vogue; and certainly they are never allowed amoment's consideration when a sailor is on trial for revolt, or for aninjury done to an officer. Notwithstanding the many difficulties whichlie in a seaman's way in a court of justice, presuming that they willbe modified in time, there would be little to complain of, were it notfor these two appeals. 

It is no cause of complaint that the testimony of seamen against theirofficers is viewed with suspicion, and that great allowance is made forcombinations and exaggeration. On the contrary, it is the judge's dutyto charge the jury on these points strongly. But there is reason forobjection, when, after a strict cross-examination of witnesses, afterthe arguments of counsel, and the judge's charge, a verdict is foundagainst the master, that the court should allow the practice of hearingappeals to its lenity, supported solely by evidence of the captain'sgood conduct when on shore, (especially where the case is one in whichno evidence but that of sailors could have been brought against theaccused), and then, on this ground, and on the invariable claims of thewife and family, be induced to cut down essentially the penalty imposedby a statute made expressly for masters and officers of merchantmen, and for no one else. 

There are many particulars connected with the manning of vessels, theprovisions given to crews, and the treatment of them while at sea, uponwhich there might be a good deal said; but as I have, for the mostpart, remarked upon them as they came up in the course of my narrative, I will offer nothing further now, except on the single point of themanner of shipping men. This, it is well known, is usually leftentirely to the shipping-masters, and is a cause of a great deal ofdifficulty, which might be remedied by the captain, or owner, if he hasany knowledge of seamen, attending to it personally. One of themembers of the firm to which our ship belonged, Mr. S----, had beenhimself a master of a vessel, and generally selected the crew from anumber sent down to him from the shipping-office. In this way healmost always had healthy, serviceable, and respectable men; for anyone who has seen much of sailors can tell pretty well at first sight, by a man's dress, countenance, and deportment, what he would be onboard ship. This same gentleman was also in the habit of seeing thecrew together, and speaking to them previously to their sailing. Onthe day before our ship sailed, while the crew were getting theirchests and clothes on board, he went down into the forecastle and spoketo them about the voyage, the clothing they would need, the provisionhe had made for them, and saw that they had a lamp and a few otherconveniences. If owners or masters would more generally take the samepains, they would often save their crews a good deal of inconvenience, beside creating a sense of satisfaction and gratitude, which makes avoyage begin under good auspices, and goes far toward keeping up abetter state of feeling throughout its continuance. 

It only remains for me now to speak of the associated public effortswhich have been making of late years for the good of seamen: a far moreagreeable task than that of finding fault, even where fault there is. The exertions of the general association, called the American Seamen'sFriend Society, and of the other smaller societies throughout theUnion, have been a true blessing to the seaman; and bid fair, in courseof time, to change the whole nature of the circumstances in which he isplaced, and give him a new name, as well as a new character. Theseassociations have taken hold in the right way, and aimed both at makingthe sailor's life more comfortable and creditable, and at giving himspiritual instruction. Connected with these efforts, the spread oftemperance among seamen, by means of societies, called, in their ownnautical language, Windward-Anchor Societies, and the distribution ofbooks; the establishment of Sailors' Homes, where they can becomfortably and cheaply boarded, live quietly and decently, and be inthe way of religious services, reading and conversation; also theinstitution of Savings Banks for Seamen; the distribution of tracts andBibles;--are all means which are silently doing a great work for thisclass of men. These societies make the religious instruction of seamentheir prominent object. If this is gained, there is no fear but thatall other things necessary will be added unto them. A sailor neverbecomes interested in religion, without immediately learning to read, if he did not know how before; and regular habits, forehandedness (if Imay use the word) in worldly affairs, and hours reclaimed fromindolence and vice, which follow in the wake of the converted man, makeit sure that he will instruct himself in the knowledge necessary andsuitable to his calling. The religious change is the great object. Ifthis is secured, there is no fear but that knowledge of things of theworld will come in fast enough. With the sailor, as with all other menin fact, the cultivation of the intellect, and the spread of what iscommonly called useful knowledge, while religious instruction isneglected, is little else than changing an ignorant sinner into anintelligent and powerful one. That sailor upon whom, of all others, the preaching of the Cross is least likely to have effect, is the onewhose understanding has been cultivated, while his heart has been leftto its own devices. I fully believe that those efforts which havetheir end in the intellectual cultivation of the sailor; in giving himscientific knowledge; putting it in his power to read everything, without securing, first of all, a right heart which shall guide him injudgment; in giving him political information, and interesting him innewspapers;--an end in the furtherance of which he is exhibited atladies' fairs and public meetings, and complimented for his gallantryand generosity, --are all doing a harm which the labors of many faithfulmen cannot undo. 

The establishment of Bethels in most of our own seaports, and in manyforeign ports frequented by our vessels, where the gospel is regularlypreached and the opening of "Sailors' Homes, " which I have beforementioned, where there are usually religious services and other goodinfluences, are doing a vast deal in this cause. But it is to beremembered that the sailor's home is on the deep. Nearly all his lifemust be spent on board ship; and to secure a religious influence there, should be the great object. The distribution of Bibles and tracts intocabins and forecastles, will do much toward this. There is nothingwhich will gain a sailor's attention sooner, and interest him moredeeply, than a tract, especially one which contains a story. It isdifficult to engage their attention in mere essays and arguments, butthe simplest and shortest story, in which home is spoken of, kindfriends, a praying mother or sister, a sudden death, and the like, often touches the heart of the roughest and most abandoned. The Bibleis to the sailor a sacred book. It may lie in the bottom of his chest, voyage after voyage; but he never treats it with positive disrespect. I never knew but one sailor who doubted its being the inspired word ofGod; and he was one who had received an uncommonly good education, except that he had been brought up without any early religiousinfluence. The most abandoned man of our crew, one Sunday morning, asked one of the boys to lend him his Bible. The boy said he would, but was afraid he would make sport of it. "No!" said the man, "I don'tmake sport of God Almighty. " This is a feeling general among sailors, and is a good foundation for religious influence. 

A still greater gain is made whenever, by means of a captain who isinterested in the eternal welfare of those under his command, there canbe secured the performance of regular religious exercises, and theexertion, on the side of religion, of that mighty influence which acaptain possesses for good, or for evil. There are occurrences at seawhich he may turn to great account, --a sudden death, the apprehensionof danger, or the escape from it, and the like; and all the calls forgratitude and faith. Besides, this state of thing alters the wholecurrent of feeling between the crew and their commander. His authorityassumes more of the parental character; and kinder feelings exist. Godwin, though an infidel, in one of his novels, describing therelation in which a tutor stood to his pupil, says that the convictionthe tutor was under, that he and his ward were both alike awaiting astate of eternal happiness or misery, and that they must appeartogether before the same judgment-seat, operated so upon his naturallymorose disposition, as to produce a feeling of kindness and tendernesstoward his ward, which nothing else could have caused. Such must bethe effect upon the relation of master and common seaman. 

There are now many vessels sailing under such auspices, in which greatgood is done. Yet I never happened to fall in with one of them. I didnot hear a prayer made, a chapter read in public, nor see anythingapproaching to a religious service, for two years and a quarter. Therewere, in the course of the voyage, many incidents which made, for thetime, serious impressions upon our minds, and which might have beenturned to our good; but there being no one to use the opportunity, andno services, the regular return of which might have kept something ofthe feeling alive in us, the advantage of them was lost, to some, perhaps, forever. 

The good which a single religious captain may do can hardly becalculated. In the first place, as I have said, a kinder state offeeling exists on board the ship. There is no profanity allowed; andthe men are not called by any opprobrious names, which is a great thingwith sailors. The Sabbath is observed. This gives the men a day ofrest, even if they pass it in no other way. Such a captain, too, willnot allow a sailor on board his ship to remain unable to read his Bibleand the books given to him; and will usually instruct those who needit, in writing, arithmetic, and navigation; since he has a good deal oftime on his hands, which he can easily employ in such a manner. Hewill also have regular religious services; and, in fact, by the powerof his example, and, where it can judiciously be done, by the exerciseof his authority, will give a character to the ship and all on board. In foreign ports, a ship is known by her captain; for, there being nogeneral rules in the merchant service, each master may adopt a plan ofhis own. It is to be remembered, too, that there are, in most ships, boys of a tender age, whose characters for life are forming, as well asold men, whose lives must be drawing toward a close. The greater partof sailors die at sea; and when they find their end approaching, if itdoes not, as is often the case, come without warning, they cannot, ason shore, send for a clergyman, or some religious friend, to speak tothem of that hope in a Saviour, which they have neglected, if notdespised, through life; but if the little hull does not contain such anone within its compass, they must be left without human aid in theirgreat extremity. When such commanders and such ships, as I have justdescribed, shall become more numerous, the hope of the friends ofseamen will be greatly strengthened; and it is encouraging to rememberthat the efforts among common sailors will soon raise up such a class;for those of them who are brought under these influences willinevitably be the ones to succeed to the places of trust and authority. If there is on earth an instance where a little leaven may leaven thewhole lump, it is that of the religious shipmaster. 

It is to the progress of this work among seamen that we must look withthe greatest confidence for the remedying of those numerous minor evilsand abuses that we so often hear of. It will raise the character ofsailors, both as individuals and as a class. It will give weight totheir testimony in courts of justice, secure better usage to them onboard ship, and add comforts to their lives on shore and at sea. Thereare some laws that can be passed to remove temptation from their wayand to help them in their progress; and some changes in thejurisdiction of the lower courts, to prevent delays, may, and probablywill, be made. But, generally speaking, more especially in things whichconcern the discipline of ships, we had better labor in this greatwork, and view with caution the proposal of new laws and arbitraryregulations, remembering that most of those concerned in the making ofthem must necessarily be little qualified to judge of their operation. 

Without any formal dedication of my narrative to that body of men, ofwhose common life it is intended to be a picture, I have yet borne themconstantly in mind during its preparation. I cannot but trust thatthose of them, into whose hands it may chance to fall, will find in itthat which shall render any professions of sympathy and good wishes onmy part unnecessary. And I will take the liberty, on parting with myreader, who has gone down with us to the ocean, and "laid his hand uponits mane, " to commend to his kind wishes, and to the benefit of hisefforts, that class of men with whom, for a time, my lot was cast. Iwish the rather to do this, since I feel that whatever attention thisbook may gain, and whatever favor it may find, I shall owe almostentirely to that interest in the sea, and those who follow it, which isso easily excited in us all. 

[1] I am not sure that I have stated, in the course of my narrative, the manner in which sailors eat, on board ship. There are neithertables, knives, forks, nor plates, in a forecastle; but the kid (awooden tub, with iron hoops) is placed on the floor and the crew sitround it, and each man cuts for himself with the common jack-knife orsheath-knife, that he carries about him. They drink their tea out oftin pots, holding little less than a quart each. 

These particulars are not looked upon as hardships, and, indeed, may beconsidered matters of choice. Sailors, in our merchantmen, furnishtheir own eating utensils, as they do many of the instruments whichthey use in the ship's work, such as knives, palms and needles, marline-spikes, rubbers, etc. And considering their mode of life inother respects, the little time they would have for laying and clearingaway a table with its apparatus, and the room it would take up in aforecastle, as well as the simple character of their meals, consistinggenerally of only one piece of meat, --it is certainly a convenientmethod, and, as the kid and pans are usually kept perfectly clean, aneat and simple one. I had supposed these things to be generallyknown, until I heard, a few months ago, a lawyer of repute, who has hada good deal to do with marine cases, ask a sailor upon the standwhether the crew had "got up from table" when a certain thing happened. 

TWENTY-FOUR YEARS AFTER

It was in the winter of 1835-6 that the ship Alert, in the prosecutionof her voyage for hides on the remote and almost unknown coast ofCalifornia, floated into the vast solitude of the Bay of San Francisco. All around was the stillness of nature. One vessel, a Russian, lay atanchor there, but during our whole stay not a sail came or went. Ourtrade was with remote Missions, which sent hides to us in launchesmanned by their Indians. Our anchorage was between a small island, called Yerba Buena, and a gravel beach in a little bight or cove of thesame name, formed by two small projecting points. Beyond, to thewestward of the landing-place, were dreary sand-hills, with littlegrass to be seen, and few trees, and beyond them higher hills, steepand barren, their sides gullied by the rains. Some five or six milesbeyond the landing-place, to the right, was a ruinous Presidio, andsome three or four miles to the left was the Mission of Dolores, asruinous as the Presidio, almost deserted, with but few Indians attachedto it, and but little property in cattle. Over a region far beyond oursight there were no other human habitations, except that anenterprising Yankee, years in advance of his time, had put up, on therising ground above the landing, a shanty of rough boards, where hecarried on a very small retail trade between the hide ships and theIndians. Vast banks of fog, invading us from the North Pacific, drovein through the entrance, and covered the whole bay; and when theydisappeared, we saw a few well-wooded islands, the sand-hills on thewest, the grassy and wooded slopes on the east, and the vast stretch ofthe bay to the southward, where we were told lay the Missions of SantaClara and San José, and still longer stretches to the northward andnortheastward, where we understood smaller bays spread out, and largerivers poured in their tributes of waters. There were no settlements onthese bays or rivers, and the few ranchos and Missions were remote andwidely separated. Not only the neighborhood of our anchorage, but theentire region of the great bay, was a solitude. On the whole coast ofCalifornia there was not a lighthouse, a beacon, or a buoy, and thecharts were made up from old and disconnected surveys by British, Russian, and Mexican voyagers. Birds of prey and passage swooped anddived about us, wild beasts ranged through the oak groves, and as weslowly floated out of the harbor with the tide, herds of deer came tothe water's edge, on the northerly side of the entrance, to gaze at thestrange spectacle. 

On the evening of Saturday, the 13th of August, 1859, the superbsteamship Golden Gate, gay with crowds of passengers, and lighting thesea for miles around with the glare of her signal lights of red, green, and white, and brilliant with lighted saloons and staterooms, bound upfrom the Isthmus of Panama, neared the entrance to San Francisco, thegreat centre of a world-wide commerce. Miles out at sea, on thedesolate rocks of the Farallones, gleamed the powerful rays of one ofthe most costly and effective light-houses in the world. As we drew inthrough the Golden Gate, another light-house met our eyes, and in theclear moonlight of the unbroken California summer we saw, on the right, a large fortification protecting the narrow entrance, and just beforeus the little island of Alcatraz confronted us, --one entire fortress. We bore round the point toward the old anchoring-ground of the hideships, and there, covering the sand-hills and the valleys, stretchingfrom the water's edge to the base of the great hills, and from the oldPresidio to the Mission, flickering all over with the lamps of itsstreets and houses, lay a city of one hundred thousand inhabitants. Clocks tolled the hour of midnight from its steeples, but the city wasalive from the salute of our guns, spreading the news that thefortnightly steamer had come, bringing mails and passengers from theAtlantic world. Clipper ships of the largest size lay at anchor in thestream, or were girt to the wharves; and capacious high-pressuresteamers, as large and showy as those of the Hudson or Mississippi, bodies of dazzling light, awaited the delivery of our mails to taketheir courses up the Bay, stopping at Benicia and the United StatesNaval Station, and then up the great tributaries--the Sacramento, SanJoaquin, and Feather Rivers--to the far inland cities of Sacramento, Stockton, and Marysville. 

The dock into which we drew, and the streets about it, were denselycrowded with express wagons and hand-carts to take luggage, coaches andcabs for passengers, and with men, --some looking out for friends amongour hundreds of passengers, --agents of the press, and a greatermultitude eager for newspapers and verbal intelligence from the greatAtlantic and European world. Through this crowd I made my way, alongthe well-built and well-lighted streets, as alive as by day, where boysin high-keyed voices were already crying the latest New York papers;and between one and two o'clock in the morning found myself comfortablyabed in a commodious room, in the Oriental Hotel, which stood, as wellas I could learn, on the filled-up cove, and not far from the spotwhere we used to beach our boats from the Alert. 

Sunday, August 14th. When I awoke in the morning, and looked from mywindows over the city of San Francisco, with its storehouses, towers, and steeples; its court-houses, theatres, and hospitals; its dailyjournals; its well-filled learned professions; its fortresses andlight-houses; its wharves and harbor, with their thousand-ton clipperships, more in number than London or Liverpool sheltered that day, itself one of the capitals of the American Republic, and the soleemporium of a new world, the awakened Pacific; when I looked across thebay to the eastward, and beheld a beautiful town on the fertile, woodedshores of the Contra Costa, and steamers, large and small, theferryboats to the Contra Costa, and capacious freighters andpassenger-carriers to all parts of the great bay and its tributaries, with lines of their smoke in the horizon, --when I saw all these things, and reflected on what I once was and saw here, and what now surroundedme, I could scarcely keep my hold on reality at all, or the genuinenessof anything, and seemed to myself like one who had moved in "worlds notrealized. "

I could not complain that I had not a choice of places of worship. TheRoman Catholics have an archbishop, a cathedral, and five or sixsmaller churches, French, German, Spanish, and English; and theEpiscopalians, a bishop, a cathedral, and three other churches; theMethodists and Presbyterians have three or four each, and there areCongregationalists, Baptists, a Unitarian, and other societies. On myway to church, I met two classmates of mine at Harvard standing in adoor-way, one a lawyer and the other a teacher, and made appointmentsfor a future meeting. A little farther on I came upon another Harvardman, a fine scholar and wit, and full of cleverness and good-humor, whoinvited me to go to breakfast with him at the French house--he was abachelor, and a late riser on Sundays. I asked him to show me the wayto Bishop Kip's church. He hesitated, looked a little confused, andadmitted that he was not as well up in certain classes of knowledge asin others, but, by a desperate guess, pointed out a wooden building atthe foot of the street, which any one might have seen could not beright, and which turned out to be an African Baptist meeting-house. Butmy friend had many capital points of character, and I owed much of thepleasure of my visit to his attentions. 

The congregation at the Bishop's church was precisely like one youwould meet in New York, Philadelphia, or Boston. To be sure, theidentity of the service makes one feel at once at home, but the peoplewere alike, nearly all of the English race, though from all parts ofthe Union. The latest French bonnets were at the head of the chiefpews, and business men at the foot. The music was without character, but there was an instructive sermon, and the church was full. 

I found that there were no services at any of the Protestant churchesin the afternoon. They have two services on Sunday; at 11 A. M. , andafter dark. The afternoon is spent at home, or in friendly visiting, or teaching of Sunday Schools, or other humane and social duties. 

This is as much the practice with what at home are called the strictestdenominations as with any others. Indeed, I found individuals, as wellas public bodies, affected in a marked degree by a change of oceans andby California life. One Sunday afternoon I was surprised at receivingthe card of a man whom I had last known, some fifteen years ago, as astrict and formal deacon of a Congregational Society in New England. He was a deacon still, in San Francisco, a leader in all pious works, devoted to his denomination and to total abstinence, --the sameinternally, but externally--what a change! Gone was the downcast eye, the bated breath, the solemn, non-natural voice, the watchful gait, stepping as if he felt responsible for the balance of the moraluniverse! He walked with a stride, an uplifted open countenance, hisface covered with beard, whiskers, and mustache, his voice strong andnatural;--and, in short, he had put off the New England deacon andbecome a human being. In a visit of an hour I learned much from himabout the religious societies, the moral reforms, the"Dashaways, "--total abstinence societies, which had taken strong holdon the young and wilder parts of society, --and then of the VigilanceCommittee, of which he was a member, and of more secular points ofinterest. 

In one of the parlors of the hotel, I saw a man of about sixty years ofage, with his feet bandaged and resting in a chair, whom somebodyaddressed by the name of Lies. [1] Lies! thought I, that must be theman who came across the country from Kentucky to Monterey while we laythere in the Pilgrim in 1835, and made a passage in the Alert, when heused to shoot with his rifle bottles hung from the top-gallantstudding-sail-boom-ends. He married the beautiful Doña RosalíaVallejo, sister of Don Guadalupe. There were the old high features andsandy hair. I put my chair beside him, and began conversation, as anyone may do in California. Yes, he was the Mr. Lies; and when I gave myname he professed at once to remember me, and spoke of my book. Ifound that almost--I might perhaps say quite--every American inCalifornia had read it; for when California "broke out, " as the phraseis, in 1848, and so large a portion of the Anglo-Saxon race flocked toit, there was no book upon California but mine. Many who were on thecoast at the time the book refers to, and afterwards read it, andremembered the Pilgrim and Alert, thought they also remembered me. Butperhaps more did remember me than I was inclined at first to believe, for the novelty of a collegian coming out before the mast had drawnmore attention to me than I was aware of at the time. 

Late in the afternoon, as there were vespers at the Roman Catholicchurches, I went to that of Notre Dame des Victoires. The congregationwas French, and a sermon in French was preached by an Abbé; the musicwas excellent, all things airy and tasteful, and making one feel as ifin one of the chapels in Paris. The Cathedral of St. Mary, which Iafterwards visited, where the Irish attend, was a contrast indeed, andmore like one of our stifling Irish Catholic churches in Boston or NewYork, with intelligence in so small a proportion to the number offaces. During the three Sundays I was in San Francisco, I visitedthree of the Episcopal churches, and the Congregational, a ChineseMission Chapel, and on the Sabbath (Saturday) a Jewish synagogue. TheJews are a wealthy and powerful class here. The Chinese, too, arenumerous, and do a great part of the manual labor and smallshop-keeping, and have some wealthy mercantile houses. 

It is noticeable that European Continental fashions prevail generallyin this city, --French cooking, lunch at noon, and dinner at the end ofthe day, with café noir after meals, and to a great extent the EuropeanSunday, --to all which emigrants from the United States and GreatBritain seem to adapt themselves. Some dinners which were given to meat French restaurants were, it seemed to me, --a poor judge of suchmatters, to be sure, --as sumptuous and as good, in dishes and wines, asI have found in Paris. But I had a relish-maker which my friends attable did not suspect--the remembrance of the forecastle dinners I atehere twenty-four years before. 

August 17th. The customs of California are free; and any person whoknows about my book speaks to me. The newspapers have announced thearrival of the veteran pioneer of all. I hardly walk out withoutmeeting or making acquaintances. I have already been invited todeliver the anniversary oration before the Pioneer Society, tocelebrate the settlement of San Francisco. Any man is qualified forelection into the society who came to California before 1853. Whatmoderns they are! I tell them of the time when Richardson's shanty of1835--not his adobe house of 1836--was the only human habitationbetween the Mission and the Presidio, and when the vast bay, with allits tributaries and recesses, was a solitude, --and yet I am but littlepast forty years of age. They point out the place where Richardson'sadobe house stood, and tell me that the first court and first towncouncil were convened in it, the first Protestant worship performed init, and in it the first capital trial by the Vigilance Committee held. I am taken down to the wharves, by antiquaries of a ten or twelveyears' range, to identify the two points, now known as Clark's andRincon, which formed the little cove of Yerba Buena, where we used tobeach our boats, --now filled up and built upon. The island we called"Wood Island, " where we spent the cold days and nights of December, inour launch, getting wood for our year's supply, is clean shorn oftrees; and the bare rocks of Alcatraz Island, an entire fortress. Ihave looked at the city from the water and islands from the city, but Ican see nothing that recalls the times gone by, except the venerableMission, the ruinous Presidio, the high hills in the rear of the town, and the great stretches of the bay in all directions. 

To-day I took a California horse of the old style, --the run, the lopinggait, --and visited the Presidio. The walls stand as they did, withsome changes made to accommodate a small garrison of United Statestroops. It has a noble situation, and I saw from it a clipper ship ofthe very largest class, coming through the Gate, under her fore-and-aftsails. Thence I rode to the Fort, now nearly finished, on the southernshore of the Gate, and made an inspection of it. It is very expensiveand of the latest style. One of the engineers here is Custis Lee, whohas just left West Point at the head of his class, --a son of ColonelRobert E. Lee, who distinguished himself in the Mexican War. 

Another morning I ride to the Mission Dolores. It has a strangelysolitary aspect, enhanced by its surroundings of the most uncongenial, rapidly growing modernisms; the hoar of ages surrounded by thebrightest, slightest, and rapidest of modern growths. Its old belfriesstill clanged with the discordant bells, and Mass was saying within, for it is used as a place of worship for the extreme south part of thecity. 

In one of my walks about the wharves, I found a pile of dry hides lyingby the side of a vessel. Here was something to feelingly persuade mewhat I had been, to recall a past scarce credible to myself. I stoodlost in reflection. What were these hides--what were they not?--to us, to me, a boy, twenty-four years ago? These were our constant labor, ourchief object, our almost habitual thought. They brought us out here, they kept us here, and it was only by getting them that we could escapefrom the coast and return to home and civilized life. If it had notbeen that I might be seen, I should have seized one, slung it over myhead, walked off with it, and thrown it by the old toss--I do notbelieve yet a lost art--to the ground. How they called up to my mindthe months of curing at San Diego, the year and more of beach and surfwork, and the steering of the ship for home! I was in a dream of SanDiego, San Pedro--with its hills so steep for taking up goods, and itsstones so hard to our bare feet--and the cliffs of San Juan! All this, too, is no more! The entire hide-business is of the past, and to thepresent inhabitants of California a dim tradition. The golddiscoveries drew off all men from the gathering or cure of hides, theinflowing population made an end of the great droves of cattle; and nownot a vessel pursues the--I was about to say dear--the dreary oncehated business of gathering hides upon the coast, and the beach of SanDiego is abandoned and its hide-houses have disappeared. Meeting arespectable-looking citizen on the wharf, I inquired of him how thehide-trade was carried on. "O, " said he, "there is very little of it, and that is all here. The few that are brought in are placed undersheds in winter, or left out on the wharf in summer, and are loadedfrom the wharves into the vessels alongside. They form parts ofcargoes of other materials. " I really felt too much, at the instant, to express to him the cause of my interest in the subject, and onlyadded, "Then the old business of trading up and down the coast andcuring hides for cargoes is all over?" "O yes, sir, " said he, "thoseold times of the Pilgrim and Alert and California, that we read about, are gone by. "

Saturday, August 20th. The steamer Senator makes regular trips up anddown the coast, between San Francisco and San Diego, calling atintermediate ports. This is my opportunity to revisit the old scenes. She sails to-day, and I am off, steaming among the great clippersanchored in the harbor, and gliding rapidly round the point, pastAlcatraz Island, the light-house, and through the fortified GoldenGate, and bending to the southward, --all done in two or three hours, which, in the Alert, under canvas, with head tides, variable winds, andsweeping currents to deal with, took us full two days. 

Among the passengers I noticed an elderly gentleman, thin, with sandyhair and face that seemed familiar. He took off his glove and showedone shrivelled hand. It must be he! I went to him and said, "CaptainWilson, I believe. " Yes, that was his name. "I knew you, sir, when youcommanded the Ayacucho on this coast, in old hide-droghing times, in1835-6. " He was quickened by this, and at once inquiries were made oneach side, and we were in full talk about the Pilgrim and Alert, Ayacucho and Loriotte, the California and Lagoda. I found he had beenvery much flattered by the praise I had bestowed in my book on hisseamanship, especially in bringing the Pilgrim to her berth in SanDiego harbor, after she had drifted successively into the Lagoda andLoriotte, and was coming into him. I had made a pet of his brig, theAyacucho, which pleased him almost as much as my remembrance of hisbride and their wedding, which I saw at Santa Barbara in 1836. DoñaRamona was now the mother of a large family, and Wilson assured me thatif I would visit him at his rancho, near San Luis Obispo, I should findher still a handsome woman, and very glad to see me. How we walked thedeck together, hour after hour, talking over the old times, --the ships, the captains, the crews, the traders on shore, the ladies, theMissions, the south-easters! indeed, where could we stop? He had soldthe Ayacucho in Chili for a vessel of war, and had given up the sea, and had been for years a ranchero. (I learned from others that he hadbecome one of the most wealthy and respectable farmers in the State, and that his rancho was well worth visiting. ) Thompson, he said, hadn't the sailor in him; and he never could laugh enough at his fiascoin San Diego, and his reception by Bradshaw. Faucon was a sailor and anavigator. He did not know what had become of George Marsh (ante, pp. 199-202, 252), except that he left him in Callao; nor could he tell meanything of handsome Bill Jackson (ante, p. 86), nor of Captain Nye ofthe Loriotte. I told him all I then knew of the ships, the masters, and the officers. I found he had kept some run of my history, andneeded little information. Old Señor Noriego of Santa Barbara, he toldme, was dead, and Don Carlos and Don Santiago, but I should find theirchildren there, now in middle life. Doña Augustia, he said, I had madefamous by my praises of her beauty and dancing, and I should have fromher a royal reception. She had been a widow, and remarried since, andhad a daughter as handsome as herself. The descendants of Noriego hadtaken the ancestral name of De la Guerra, as they were nobles of OldSpain by birth; and the boy Pablo, who used to make passages in theAlert, was now Don Pablo de la Guerra, a Senator in the StateLegislature for Santa Barbara County. 

The points in the country, too, he noticed, as he passed them, --SantaCruz, San Luis Obispo, Point Año Nuevo, the opening to Monterey, whichto my disappointment we did not visit. No; Monterey, the prettiest townon the coast, and its capital and seat of customs, had got no advantagefrom the great changes, was out of the way of commerce and of thetravel to the mines and great rivers, and was not worth stopping at. Point Conception we passed in the night, a cheery light gleaming overthe waters from its tar light-house, standing on its outermost peak. Point Conception! That word was enough to recall all our experiencesand dreads of gales, swept decks, topmast carried away, and thehardships of a coast service in the winter. But Captain Wilson tellsme that the climate has altered; that the southeasters are no longerthe bane of the coast they once were, and that vessels now anchorinside the kelp at Santa Barbara and San Pedro all the year round. Ishould have thought this owing to his spending his winters on a ranchoinstead of the deck of the Ayacucho, had not the same thing been toldme by others. 

Passing round Point Conception, and steering easterly, we opened theislands that form, with the main-land, the canal of Santa Barbara. There they are, Santa Cruz and Santa Rosa; and there is the beautifulpoint, Santa Buenaventura; and there lies Santa Barbara on its plain, with its amphitheatre of high hills and distant mountains. There isthe old white Mission with its belfries, and there the town, with itsone-story adobe houses, with here and there a two-story wooden house oflater build; yet little is it altered, --the same repose in the goldensunlight and glorious climate, sheltered by its hills; and then, moreremindful than anything else, there roars and tumbles upon the beachthe same grand surf of the great Pacific as on the beautiful day whenthe Pilgrim, after her five months' voyage, dropped her weary anchorshere; the same bright blue ocean, and the surf making just the samemonotonous, melancholy roar, and the same dreamy town, and gleamingwhite Mission, as when we beached our boats for the first time, ridingover the breakers with shouting Kanakas, the three small hide-traderslying at anchor in the offing. But now we are the only vessel, andthat an unromantic, sail-less, spar-less, engine-driven hulk!

I landed in the surf, in the old style, but it was not high enough toexcite us, the only change being that I was somehow unaccountably apassenger, and did not have to jump overboard and steady the boat, andrun her up by the gunwales. 

Santa Barbara has gained but little. I should not know, from anythingI saw, that she was now a seaport of the United States, a part of theenterprising Yankee nation, and not still a lifeless Mexican town. Atthe same old house, where Señor Noriego lived, on the piazza in frontof the court-yard, where was the gay scene of the marriage of ouragent, Mr. Robinson, to Doña Anita, where Don Juan Bandini and DoñaAugustia danced, Don Pablo de la Guerra received me in a courtlyfashion. I passed the day with the family, and in walking about theplace; and ate the old dinner with its accompaniments of frijoles, native olives and grapes, and native wines. In due time I paid myrespects to Doña Augustia, and notwithstanding what Wilson told me, Icould hardly believe that after twenty-four years there would still beso much of the enchanting woman about her. 

She thanked me for the kind and, as she called them, greatlyexaggerated compliments I had paid her; and her daughter told me thatall travellers who came to Santa Barbara called to see her mother, andthat she herself never expected to live long enough to be a belle. 

Mr. Alfred Robinson, our agent in 1835-6, was here, with a part of hisfamily. I did not know how he would receive me, remembering what I hadprinted to the world about him at a time when I took little thoughtthat the world was going to read it; but there was no sign of offence, only cordiality which gave him, as between us, rather the advantage instatus. 

The people of this region are giving attention to sheep-raising, wine-making, and the raising of olives, just enough to keep the townfrom going backwards. 

But evening is drawing on, and our boat sails to-night. So, refusing ahorse or carriage, I walk down, not unwilling to be a little early, that I may pace up and down the beach, looking off to the islands andthe points, and watching the roaring, tumbling billows. How softeningis the effect of time! It touches us through the affections. I almostfeel as if I were lamenting the passing away of something loved anddear, --the boats, the Kanakas, the hides, my old shipmates. Death, change, distance, lend them a character which makes them quite anotherthing from the vulgar, wearisome toil of uninteresting, forced manuallabour. 

The breeze freshened as we stood out to sea, and the wild waves rolledover the red sun, on the broad horizon of the Pacific; but it issummer, and in summer there can be no bad weather in California. Everyday is pleasant. Nature forbids a drop of rain to fall by day ornight, or a wind to excite itself beyond a fresh summer breeze. 

The next morning we found ourselves at anchor in the Bay of San Pedro. Here was this hated, this thoroughly detested spot. Although we laynear, I could scarce recognize the hill up which we rolled and draggedand pushed and carried our heavy loads, and down which we pitched thehides, to carry them barefooted over the rocks to the floatinglong-boat. It was no longer the landing-place. One had been made atthe head of the creek, and boats discharged and took off cargoes from amole or wharf, in a quiet place, safe from southeasters. A tug ran totake off passengers from the steamer to the wharf, --for the trade ofLos Angeles is sufficient to support such a vessel. I got the captainto land me privately, in a small boat, at the old place by the hill. Idismissed the boat, and, alone, found my way to the high ground. I sayfound my way, for neglect and weather had left but few traces of thesteep road the hide-vessels had built to the top. The cliff off whichwe used to throw the hides, and where I spent nights watching them, wasmore easily found. The population was doubled, that is to say, therewere two houses, instead of one, on the hill. I stood on the brow andlooked out toward the offing, the Santa Catalina Island, and, nearer, the melancholy Dead Man's Island, with its painful tradition, andrecalled the gloomy days that followed the flogging, and fancied thePilgrim at anchor in the offing. But the tug is going toward oursteamer, and I must awake and be off. I walked along the shore to thenew landing-place, where were two or three store-houses and otherbuildings, forming a small depot; and a stage-coach, I found, wentdaily between this place and the Pueblo. I got a seat on the top ofthe coach, to which were tackled six little less than wild Californiahorses. Each horse had a man at his head, and when the driver had gothis reins in hand he gave the word, all the horses were let go at once, and away they went on a spring, tearing over the ground, the driveronly keeping them from going the wrong way, for they had a wide, levelpampa to run over the whole thirty miles to the Pueblo. This plain isalmost treeless, with no grass, at least none now in the drought ofmid-summer, and is filled with squirrel-holes, and alive withsquirrels. As we changed horses twice, we did not slacken our speeduntil we turned into the streets of the Pueblo. 

The Pueblo de los Angeles I found a large and flourishing town of abouttwenty thousand inhabitants, with brick sidewalks, and blocks of stoneor brick houses. The three principal traders when we were here forhides in the Pilgrim and Alert are still among the chief traders of theplace, --Stearns, Temple, and Warner, the two former being reputed veryrich. I dined with Mr. Stearns, now a very old man, and met there DonJuan Bandini, to whom I had given a good deal of notice in my book. From him, as indeed from every one in this town, I met with the kindestattentions. The wife of Don Juan, who was a beautiful young girl whenwe were on the coast, Doña Refugio, daughter of Don Santiago Argüello, the commandante of San Diego, was with him, and still handsome. Thisis one of several instances I have noticed of the preserving quality ofthe California climate. Here, too, was Henry Mellus, who came out withme before the mast in the Pilgrim, and left the brig to be agent'sclerk on shore. He had experienced varying fortunes here, and was nowmarried to a Mexican lady, and had a family. I dined with him, and inthe afternoon he drove me round to see the vineyards, the chief objectsin this region. The vintage of last year was estimated at half amillion of gallons. Every year new square miles of ground are laiddown to vineyards, and the Pueblo promises to be the centre of one ofthe largest wine-producing regions in the world. Grapes are a drughere, and I found a great abundance of figs, olives, peaches, pears, and melons. The climate is well suited to these fruits, but is too hotand dry for successful wheat crops. 

Towards evening, we started off in the stage coach, with again ourrelays of six mad horses, and reached the creek before dark, though itwas late at night before we got on board the steamer, which was slowlymoving her wheels, under way for San Diego. 

As we skirted along the coast, Wilson and I recognized, or thought wedid, in the clear moonlight, the rude white Mission of San JuanCapistrano, and its cliff, from which I had swung down by a pair ofhalyards to save a few hides, --a boy who could not be prudential, andwho caught at every chance for adventure. 

As we made the high point off San Diego, Point Loma, we were greeted bythe cheering presence of a light-house. As we swept round it in theearly morning, there, before us, lay the little harbor of San Diego, its low spit of sand, where the water runs so deep; the opposite flats, where the Alert grounded in starting for home; the low hills, withouttrees, and almost without brush; the quiet little beach;--but the chiefobjects, the hide houses, my eye looked for in vain. They were gone, all, and left no mark behind. 

I wished to be alone, so I let the other passengers go up to the town, and was quietly pulled ashore in a boat, and left to myself. Therecollections and the emotions all were sad, and only sad. 

 Fugit, interea fugit irreparabile tempus. 

The past was real. The present, all about me, was unreal, unnatural, repellant. I saw the big ships lying in the stream, the Alert, theCalifornia, the Rosa, with her Italians; then the handsome Ayacucho, myfavorite; the poor, dear old Pilgrim, the home of hardship andhopelessness; the boats passing to and fro; the cries of the sailors atthe capstan or falls; the peopled beach; the large hide-houses withtheir gangs of men; and the Kanakas interspersed everywhere. All, allwere gone! not a vestige to mark where one hide-house stood. The oven, too, was gone. I searched for its site, and found, where I thought itshould be, a few broken bricks and bits of mortar. I alone was left ofall, and how strangely was I here! What changes to me! Where werethey all? Why should I care for them, --poor Kanakas and sailors, therefuse of civilization, the outlaws and beach-combers of the Pacific!Time and death seemed to transfigure them. Doubtless nearly all weredead; but how had they died, and where? In hospitals, in fever-climes, in dens of vice, or falling from the mast, or dropping exhausted fromthe wreck, --

 "When for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown. "

The light-hearted boys are now hardened middle-aged men, if the seas, rocks, fevers, and the deadlier enemies that beset a sailor's life onshore have spared them; and the then strong men have bowed themselves, and the earth or sea has covered them. 

Even the animals are gone, --the colony of dogs, the broods of poultry, the useful horses; but the coyotes bark still in the woods, for theybelong not to man, and are not touched by his changes. 

I walked slowly up the hill, finding my way among the few bushes, forthe path was long grown over, and sat down where we used to rest incarrying our burdens of wood, and to look out for vessels that might, though so seldom, be coming down from the windward. 

To rally myself by calling to mind my own better fortune and noblerlot, and cherished surroundings at home, was impossible. Borne down bydepression, the day being yet at its noon, and the sun over the oldpoint--it is four miles to the town, the Presidio, --I have walked itoften, and can do it once more, --I passed the familiar objects, and itseemed to me that I remembered them better than those of any otherplace I had ever been in;--the opening to the little cave; the lowhills where we cut wood and killed rattlesnakes, and where our dogschased the coyotes; and the black ground where so many of the ship'screw and beach-combers used to bring up on their return at the end of aliberty day, and spend the night sub Jove. 

The little town of San Diego has undergone no change whatever that Ican see. It certainly has not grown. It is still, like Santa Barbara, a Mexican town. The four principal houses of the gente de razon--ofthe Bandinis, Estudillos, Argüellos, and Picos--are the chief housesnow; but all the gentlemen--and their families, too, I believe--aregone. The big vulgar shop-keeper and trader, Fitch, is long sincedead; Tom Wrightington, who kept the rival pulpería, fell from hishorse when drunk, and was found nearly eaten up by coyotes; and I canscarce find a person whom I remember. I went into a familiar one-storyadobe house, with its piazza and earthen floor, inhabited by arespectable lower-class family by the name of Muchado, and inquired ifany of the family remained, when a bright-eyed middle-aged womanrecognized me, for she had heard I was on board the steamer, and toldme she had married a shipmate of mine, Jack Stewart, who went out assecond mate the next voyage, but left the ship and married and settledhere. She said he wished very much to see me. In a few minutes hecame in, and his sincere pleasure in meeting me was extremely grateful. We talked over old times as long as I could afford to. I was glad tohear that he was sober and doing well. Doña Tomasa Pico I found andtalked with. She was the only person of the old upper class thatremained on the spot, if I rightly recollect. I found an Americanfamily here, with whom I dined, --Doyle and his wife, nice young people, Doyle agent for the great line of coaches to run to the frontier of theold States. 

I must complete my acts of pious remembrance, so I take a horse andmake a run out to the old Mission, where Ben Stimson and I went thefirst liberty day we had after we left Boston (ante, p. 115). All hasgone to decay. The buildings are unused and ruinous, and the largegardens show now only wild cactuses, willows, and a few olive-trees. Afast run brings me back in time to take leave of the few I knew and whoknew me, and to reach the steamer before she sails. A last look--yes, last for life--to the beach, the hills, the low point, the distanttown, as we round Point Loma and the first beams of the light-housestrike out towards the setting sun. 

Wednesday, August 24th. At anchor at San Pedro by daylight. Butinstead of being roused out of the forecastle to row the long-boatashore and bring off a load of hides before breakfast, we were servedwith breakfast in the cabin, and again took our drive with the wildhorses to the Pueblo and spent the day; seeing nearly the same personsas before, and again getting back by dark. We steamed again for SantaBarbara, where we only lay an hour, and passed through its canal andround Point Conception, stopping at San Luis Obispo to land my friend, as I may truly call him after this long passage together, CaptainWilson, whose most earnest invitation to stop here and visit him at hisrancho I was obliged to decline. 

Friday evening, 26th August, we entered the Golden Gate, passed thelight-houses and forts, and clipper ships at anchor, and came to ourdock, with this great city, on its high hills and rising surfaces, brilliant before us, and full of eager life. 

Making San Francisco my head-quarters, I paid visits to various partsof the State, --down the Bay to Santa Clara, with its live oaks andsycamores, and its Jesuit College for boys; and San José, where is thebest girls' school in the State, kept by the Sisters of Notre Dame, --atown now famous for a year's session of "The legislature of a thousanddrinks, "--and thence to the rich Almaden quicksilver mines, returningon the Contra Costa side through the rich agricultural country, withits ranchos and the vast grants of the Castro and Soto families, wherefarming and fruit-raising are done on so large a scale. Anotherexcursion was up the San Joaquin to Stockton, a town of some tenthousand inhabitants, a hundred miles from San Francisco, and crossingthe Tuolumne and Stanislaus and Merced, by the little Spanish town ofHornitos, and Snelling's Tavern, at the ford of the Merced, where somany fatal fights are had. Thence I went to Mariposa County, andColonel Fremont's mines, and made an interesting visit to "theColonel, " as he is called all over the country, and Mrs. Fremont, aheroine equal to either fortune, the salons of Paris and thedrawing-rooms of New York and Washington, or the roughest life of theremote and wild mining regions of Mariposa, --with their fine family ofspirited, clever children. After a rest there, we went on to Clark'sCamp and the Big Trees, where I measured one tree ninety-seven feet incircumference without its bark, and the bark is usually eighteen inchesthick; and rode through another which lay on the ground, a shell, withall the insides out--rode through it mounted, and sitting at fullheight in the saddle; then to the wonderful Yo Semite Valley, --itself astupendous miracle of nature, with its Dome, its Capitan, its walls ofthree thousand feet of perpendicular height, --but a valley of streams, of waterfalls from the torrent to the mere shimmer of a bridal veil, only enough to reflect a rainbow, with their plunges of twenty-fivehundred feet, or their smaller falls of eight hundred, with nothing atthe base but thick mists, which form and trickle, and then run and atlast plunge into the blue Merced that flows through the centre of thevalley. Back by the Coulterville trail, the peaks of Sierra Nevada insight, across the North Fork of the Merced, by Gentry's Gulch, overhills and through cañons, to Fremont's again, and thence to Stocktonand San Francisco--all this at the end of August, when there has beenno rain for four months, and the air is dear and very hot, and theground perfectly dry; windmills, to raise water for artificialirrigation of small patches, seen all over the landscape, while wetravel through square miles of hot dust, where they tell us, and trulythat in winter and early spring we should be up to our knees inflowers; a country, too, where surface gold-digging is so common andunnoticed that the large, six-horse stage-coach, in which I travelledfrom Stockton to Hornitos, turned off in the high road for a Chinaman, who, with his pan and washer, was working up a hole which an Americanhad abandoned, but where the minute and patient industry of theChinaman averaged a few dollars a day. 

These visits were so full of interest, with grandeurs and humors of allsorts, that I am strongly tempted to describe them. But I rememberthat I am not to write a journal of a visit over the new California, but to sketch briefly the contrasts with the old spots of 1835-6, and Iforbear. 

How strange and eventful has been the brief history of this marvellouscity, San Francisco! In 1835 there was one board shanty. In 1836, oneadobe house on the same spot. In 1847, a population of four hundredand fifty persons, who organized a town government. Then came the aurisacra fames, the flocking together of many of the worst spirits ofChristendom; a sudden birth of a city of canvas and boards, entirelydestroyed by fire five times in eighteen months, with a loss of sixteenmillions of dollars, and as often rebuilt, until it became a solid cityof brick and stone, of nearly one hundred thousand inhabitants, withall the accompaniments of wealth and culture, and now (in 1859) themost quiet and well-governed city of its size in the United States. But it has been through its season of Heaven-defying crime, violence, and blood, from which it was rescued and handed back to soberness, morality, and good government, by that peculiar invention ofAnglo-Saxon Republican America, the solemn, awe-inspiring VigilanceCommittee of the most grave and responsible citizens, the last resortof the thinking and the good, taken to only when vice, fraud, andruffianism have intrenched themselves behind the forms of law, suffrage, and ballot, and there is no hope but in organized force, whose action must be instant and thorough, or its state will be worsethan before. A history of the passage of this city through thoseordeals, and through its almost incredible financial extremes, shouldbe written by a pen which not only accuracy shall govern, butimagination shall inspire. 

I cannot pause for the civility of referring to the many kindattentions I received, and the society of educated men and women fromall parts of the Union I met with; where New England, the Carolinas, Virginia, and the new West sat side by side with English, French, andGerman civilization. 

My stay in California was interrupted by an absence of nearly fourmonths, when I sailed for the Sandwich Islands in the noble Bostonclipper ship Mastiff, which was burned at sea to the water's edge; weescaping in boats, and carried by a friendly British bark intoHonolulu, whence, after a deeply interesting visit of three months inthat most fascinating group of islands, with its natural and its moralwonders, I returned to San Francisco in an American whaler, and foundmyself again in my quarters on the morning of Sunday, December 11th, 1859. 

My first visit after my return was to Sacramento, a city of about fortythousand inhabitants, more than a hundred miles inland from SanFrancisco, on the Sacramento, where was the capital of the State, andwhere were fleets of river steamers, and a large inland commerce. HereI saw the inauguration of a Governor, Mr. Latham, a young man fromMassachusetts, much my junior; and met a member of the State Senate, aman who, as a carpenter, repaired my father's house at home some tenyears before; and two more Senators from southern California, relics ofanother age, --Don Andres Pico, from San Diego; and Don Pablo de laGuerra, whom I have mentioned as meeting at Santa Barbara. I had agood deal of conversation with these gentlemen, who stood alone in anassembly of Americans, who had conquered their country, spared pillarsof the past. Don Andres had fought us at San Pazqual and Sepulveda'srancho, in 1846, and as he fought bravely, not a common thing among theMexicans, and, indeed, repulsed Kearney, is always treated withrespect. He had the satisfaction, dear to the proud Spanish heart, ofmaking a speech before a Senate of Americans, in favor of the retentionin office of an officer of our army who was wounded at San Pazqual andwhom some wretched caucus was going to displace to carry out apolitical job. Don Andres's magnanimity and indignation carried theday. 

My last visit in this part of the country was to a new and rich farmingregion, the Napa Valley, the United States Navy Yard at Mare Island, the river gold workings, and the Geysers, and old Mr. John Yount'srancho. On board the steamer, found Mr. Edward Stanley, formerlymember of Congress from North Carolina, who became my companion for thegreater part of my trip. I also met--a revival on the spot of anacquaintance of twenty years ago--Don Guadalupe Vallejo; I may sayacquaintance, for although I was then before the mast, he knew mystory, and, as he spoke English well, used to hold many conversationswith me, when in the boat or on shore. He received me with trueearnestness, and would not hear of my passing his estate withoutvisiting him. He reminded me of a remark I made to him once, whenpulling him ashore in the boat, when he was commandante at thePresidio. I learned that the two Vallejos, Guadalupe and Salvador, owned, at an early time, nearly all Napa and Sonoma, having princelyestates. But they have not much left. They were nearly ruined bytheir bargain with the State, that they would put up the publicbuildings if the Capital should be placed at Vallejo, then a town ofsome promise. They spent $100, 000, the Capital was moved there, and intwo years removed to San José on another contract. The town fell topieces, and the houses, chiefly wooden, were taken down and removed. Iaccepted the old gentleman's invitation so far as to stop at Vallejo tobreakfast. 

The United States Navy Yard, at Mare Island, near Vallejo, is large andwell placed, with deep fresh water. The old Independence, and thesloop Decatur, and two steamers were there, and they were experimentingon building a despatch boat, the Saginaw, of California timber. 

I have no excuse for attempting to describe my visit through thefertile and beautiful Napa Valley, nor even, what exceeded that ininterest, my visit to old John Yount at his rancho, where I heard fromhis own lips some of his most interesting stories of hunting andtrapping and Indian fighting, during an adventurous life of forty yearsof such work, between our back settlements in Missouri and Arkansas, and the mountains of California, trapping in Colorado and Gila, --andhis celebrated dream, thrice repeated, which led him to organize aparty to go out over the mountains, that did actually rescue from deathby starvation the wretched remnants of the Donner party. 

I must not pause for the dreary country of the Geysers, the screamingescapes of steam, the sulphur, the boiling caldrons of black and yellowand green, and the region of Gehenna, through which runs a quiet streamof pure water; nor for the park scenery, and captivating ranchos of theNapa Valley, where farming is done on so grand a scale--where I haveseen a man plough a furrow by little red flags on sticks, to keep hisrange by, until nearly out of sight, and where, the wits tell us, hereturns the next day on the back furrow; a region where, at Christmastime, I have seen old strawberries still on the vines, by the side ofvines in full blossom for the next crop, and grapes in the same stages, and open windows, and yet a grateful wood fire on the hearth in earlymorning; nor for the titanic operations of hydraulic surface mining, where large mountain streams are diverted from their ancient beds, andmade to do the work, beyond the reach of all other agents, of washingout valleys and carrying away hills, and changing the whole surface ofthe country, to expose the stores of gold hidden for centuries in thedarkness of their earthly depths. 

January 10th, 1860. I am again in San Francisco, and my revisit toCalifornia is closed. I have touched too lightly and rapidly for muchimpression upon the reader on my last visit into the interior; but, asI have said, in a mere continuation to a narrative of a sea-faring lifeon the coast, I am only to carry the reader with me on a visit to thosescenes in which the public has long manifested so gratifying aninterest. But it seemed to me that slight notices of these entirelynew parts of the country would not be out of place, for they serve toput in strong contrast with the solitudes of 1835-6 the developedinterior, with its mines, and agricultural wealth, and rapidly fillingpopulation, and its large cities, so far from the coast, with theireducation, religion, arts, and trade. 

On the morning of the 11th January, 1860, I passed, for the eighthtime, through the Golden Gate, on my way across the delightful Pacificto the Oriental world, with its civilization three thousand years olderthan that I was leaving behind. As the shores of California faded inthe distance, and the summits of the Coast Range sank under the bluehorizon, I bade farewell--yes, I do not doubt, forever--to those sceneswhich, however changed or unchanged, must always possess an ineffableinterest for me. 

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It is time my fellow-travellers and I should part company. But I havebeen requested by a great many persons to give some account of thesubsequent history of the vessels and their crews, with which I hadmade them acquainted. I attempt the following sketches in deference tothese suggestions, and not, I trust, with any undue estimate of thegeneral interest my narrative may have created. 

Something less than a year after my return in the Alert, and when, myeyes having recovered, I was again in college life, I found one morningin the newspapers, among the arrivals of the day before, "The brigPilgrim, Faucon, from San Diego, California. " In a few hours I wasdown in Ann Street, and on my way to Hackstadt's boarding-house, whereI knew Tom Harris and others would lodge. Entering the front room, Iheard my name called from amid a group of blue-jackets, and severalsunburned, tar-colored men came forward to speak to me. They were, atfirst, a little embarrassed by the dress and style in which they hadnever seen me, and one of them was calling me Mr. Dana; but I soonstopped that, and we were shipmates once more. First, there was TomHarris, in a characteristic occupation. I had made him promise to comeand see me when we parted in San Diego; he had got a directory ofBoston, found the street and number of my father's house, and, by astudy of the plan of the city, had laid out his course, and wascommitting it to memory. He said he could go straight to the housewithout asking a question. And so he could, for I took the book fromhim, and he gave his course, naming each street and turn to right orleft, directly to the door. 

Tom had been second mate of the Pilgrim, and had laid up no mean sum ofmoney. True to his resolution, he was going to England to find hismother, and he entered into the comparative advantages of taking hismoney home in gold or in bills, --a matter of some moment, as this wasin the disastrous financial year of 1837. He seemed to have his ideaswell arranged, but I took him to a leading banker, whose advice hefollowed; and, declining my invitation to go up and show himself to myfriends, he was off for New York that afternoon, to sail the next dayfor Liverpool. The last I ever saw of Tom Harris was as he passed downTremont Street on the sidewalk, a man dragging a hand-cart in thestreet by his side, on which were his voyage-worn chest, his mattress, and a box of nautical instruments. 

Sam seemed to have got funny again, and he and John the Swede learnedthat Captain Thompson had several months before sailed in command of aship for the coast of Sumatra, and that their chance of proceedingsagainst him at law was hopeless. Sam was afterwards lost in a brig offthe coast of Brazil, when all hands went down. Of John and the rest ofthe men I have never heard. The Marblehead boy, Sam, turned out badly;and, although he had influential friends, never allowed them to improvehis condition. The old carpenter, the Fin, of whom the cook stood insuch awe (ante p. 41), had fallen sick and died in Santa Barbara, andwas buried ashore. Jim Hall, from the Kennebec, who sailed with usbefore the mast, and was made second mate in Foster's place, came homechief mate of the Pilgrim. I have often seen him since. His lot hasbeen prosperous, as he well deserved it should be. He has commandedthe largest ships, and when I last saw him, was going to the Pacificcoast of South America, to take charge of a line of mail steamers. Poor, luckless Foster I have twice seen. He came into my rooms inBoston, after I had become a barrister and my narrative had beenpublished, and told me he was chief mate of a big ship; that he hadheard I had said some things unfavorable of him in my book; that he hadjust bought it, and was going to read it that night, and if I had saidanything unfair of him, he would punish me if he found me in StateStreet. I surveyed him from head to foot, and said to him, "Foster, youwere not a formidable man when I last knew you, and I don't believe youare now. " Either he was of my opinion, or thought I had spoken of himwell enough, for the next (and last) time I met him he was civil andpleasant. 

I believe I omitted to state that Mr. Andrew B. Amerzene, the chiefmate of the Pilgrim, an estimable, kind, and trustworthy man, had adifficulty with Captain Faucon, who thought him slack, was turned offduty, and sent home with us in the Alert. Captain Thompson, instead ofgiving him the place of a mate off duty, put him into the narrowbetween-decks, where a space, not over four feet high, had been leftout among the hides, and there compelled him to live the wholewearisome voyage, through trades and tropics, and round Cape Horn, withnothing to do, --not allowed to converse or walk with the officers, andobliged to get his grub himself from the galley, in the tin pot and kidof a common sailor. I used to talk with him as much as I hadopportunity to, but his lot was wretched, and in every way wounding tohis feelings. After our arrival, Captain Thompson was obliged to makehim compensation for this treatment. It happens that I have neverheard of him since. 

Henry Mellus, who had been in a counting-house in Boston, and left theforecastle, on the coast, to be agent's clerk, and whom I met, amarried man, at Los Angeles in 1859, died at that place a few yearsago, not having been successful in commercial life. Ben Stimson leftthe sea for the fresh water and prairies, and settled in Detroit as amerchant, and when I visited that city, in 1863, I was rejoiced to findhim a prosperous and respected man, and the same generous-heartedshipmate as ever. 

This ends the catalogue of the Pilgrim's original crew, except herfirst master, Captain Thompson. He was not employed by the same firmagain, and got up a voyage to the coast of Sumatra for pepper. Acousin and classmate of mine, Mr. Channing, went as supercargo, nothaving consulted me as to the captain. First, Captain Thompson gotinto difficulties with another American vessel on the coast, whichcharged him with having taken some advantage of her in getting pepper;and then with the natives, who accused him of having obtained too muchpepper for his weights. The natives seized him, one afternoon, as helanded in his boat, and demanded of him to sign an order on thesupercargo for the Spanish dollars that they said were due them, onpain of being imprisoned on shore. He never failed in pluck, and nowordered his boat aboard, leaving him ashore, the officer to tell thesupercargo to obey no direction except under his hand. For severalsuccessive days and nights, his ship, the Alciope, lay in the burningsun, with rain-squalls and thunder-clouds coming over the highmountains, waiting for a word from him. Toward evening of the fourthor fifth day he was seen on the beach, hailing for the boat. Thenatives, finding they could not force more money from him, were afraidto hold him longer, and had let him go. He sprang into the boat, urgedher off with the utmost eagerness, leaped on board the ship like atiger, his eyes flashing and his face full of blood, ordered the anchoraweigh, and the topsails set, the four guns, two on a side, loaded withall sorts of devilish stuff, and wore her round, and, keeping as closeinto the bamboo village as he could, gave them both broadsides, slam-bang into the midst of the houses and people, and stood out tosea! As his excitement passed off, headache, languor, fever, setin, --the deadly coast-fever, contracted from the water and night-dewson shore and his maddened temper. He ordered the ship to Penang, andnever saw the deck again. He died on the passage, and was buried atsea. Mr. Channing, who took care of him in his sickness and delirium, caught the fever from him, but, as we gratefully remember, did not dieuntil the ship made port, and he was under the kindly roof of ahospitable family in Penang. The chief mate, also, took the fever, andthe second mate and crew deserted; and although the chief materecovered and took the ship to Europe and home, the voyage was amelancholy disaster. In a tour I made round the world in 1859-1860, ofwhich my revisit to California was the beginning, I went to Penang. Inthat fairy-like scene of sea and sky and shore, as beautiful asmaterial earth can be, with its fruits and flowers of a perpetualsummer, --somewhere in which still lurks the deadly fever, --I found thetomb of my kinsman, classmate, and friend. Standing beside his grave, I tried not to think that his life had been sacrificed to the faultsand violence of another; I tried not to think too hardly of that other, who at least had suffered in death. 

The dear old Pilgrim herself! She was sold, at the end of this voyage, to a merchant in New Hampshire, who employed her on short voyages, and, after a few years, I read of her total loss at sea, by fire, off thecoast of North Carolina. 

Captain Faucon, who took out the Alert, and brought home the Pilgrim, spent many years in command of vessels in the Indian and Chinese seas, and was in our volunteer navy during the late war, commanding severallarge vessels in succession, on the blockade of the Carolinas, with therank of lieutenant. He has now given up the sea, but still keeps itunder his eye, from the piazza of his house on the most beautiful hillin the environs of Boston. I have the pleasure of meeting him often. Once, in speaking of the Alert's crew, in a company of gentlemen, Iheard him say that that crew was exceptional: that he had passed allhis life at sea, but whether before the mast or abaft, whether officeror master, he had never met such a crew, and never should expect to;and that the two officers of the Alert, long ago shipmasters, agreedwith him that, for intelligence, knowledge of duty and willingness toperform it, pride in the ship, her appearance and sailing, and inabsolute reliableness, they never had seen their equal. Especially hespoke of his favorite seaman, French John. John, after a few moreyears at sea, became a boatman, and kept his neat boat at the end ofGranite Wharf, and was ready to take all, but delighted to take any ofus of the old Alert's crew, to sail down the harbor. One day CaptainFaucon went to the end of the wharf to board a vessel in the stream, and hailed for John. There was no response, and his boat was notthere. He inquired of a boatman near, where John was. The time hadcome that comes to all! There was no loyal voice to respond to thefamiliar call, the hatches had closed over him, his boat was sold toanother, and he had left not a trace behind. We could not find outeven where he was buried. 

Mr. Richard Brown, of Marblehead, our chief mate in the Alert, commanded many of our noblest ships in the European trade, a generalfavorite. A few years ago, while stepping on board his ship from thewharf, he fell from the plank into the hold and was killed. If he didnot actually die at sea, at least he died as a sailor, --he died onboard ship. 

Our second mate, Evans, no one liked or cared for, and I know nothingof him, except that I once saw him in court, on trial for some allegedpetty tyranny towards his men, --still a subaltern officer. 

The third mate, Mr. Hatch, a nephew of one of the owners, though only alad on board the ship, went out chief mate the next voyage, and rosesoon to command some of the finest clippers in the California and Indiatrade, under the new order of things, --a man of character, goodjudgment, and no little cultivation. 

Of the other men before the mast in the Alert, I know nothing ofpeculiar interest. When visiting, with a party of ladies andgentlemen, one of our largest line-of-battle ships, we were escortedabout the decks by a midshipman, who was explaining various matters onboard, when one of the party came to me and told me that there was anold sailor there with a whistle round his neck, who looked at me andsaid of the officer, "he can't show him anything aboard a ship. " Ifound him out, and, looking into his sunburnt face, covered with hair, and his little eyes drawn up into the smallest passages forlight, --like a man who had peered into hundreds of northeasters, --therewas old "Sails" of the Alert, clothed in all the honors ofboatswain's-mate. We stood aside, out of the cun of the officers, andhad a good talk over old times. I remember the contempt with which heturned on his heel to conceal his face, when the midshipman (who was agrown youth) could not tell the ladies the length of a fathom, and saidit depended on circumstances. Notwithstanding his advice andconsolation to "Chips, " in the steerage of the Alert, and his story ofhis runaway wife and the flag-bottomed chairs (ante, p. 249), heconfessed to me that he had tried marriage again, and had a littletenement just outside the gate of the yard. 

Harry Bennett, the man who had the palsy, and was unfeelingly left onshore when the Alert sailed, came home in the Pilgrim, and I had thepleasure of helping to get him into the Massachusetts General Hospital. When he had been there about a week, I went to see him in his ward, andasked him how he got along. "Oh! first-rate usage, sir; not a hand'sturn to do, and all your grub brought to you, sir. " This is a sailor'sparadise, --not a hand's turn to do, and all your grub brought to you. But an earthly paradise may pall. Bennett got tired of in-doors andstillness, and was soon out again, and set up a stall, covered withcanvas, at the end of one of the bridges, where he could see all thepassers-by, and turn a penny by cakes and ale. The stall in timedisappeared, and I could learn nothing of his last end, if it has come. 

Of the lads who, beside myself, composed the gig's crew, I knowsomething of all but one. Our bright-eyed, quick-witted littlecockswain, from the Boston public schools, Harry May, or Harry Bluff, as he was called, with all his songs and gibes, went the road to ruinas fast as the usual means could carry him. Nat, the "bucket-maker, "grave and sober, left the seas, and, I believe, is a hack-driver in hisnative town, although I have not had the luck to see him since theAlert hauled into her berth at the North End. 

One cold winter evening, a pull at the bell, and a woman in distresswished to see me. Her poor son George, --George Somerby, --"you rememberhim, sir; he was a boy in the Alert; he always talks of you, --he isdying in my poor house. " I went with her, and in a small room, withthe most scanty furniture, upon a mattress on the floor, --emaciated, ashy pale, with hollow voice and sunken eyes, --lay the boy George, whomwe took out a small, bright boy of fourteen from a Boston publicschool, who fought himself into a position on board ship (ante, p. 231), and whom we brought home a tall, athletic youth, that might havebeen the pride and support of his widowed mother. There he lay, notover nineteen years of age, ruined by every vice a sailor's lifeabsorbs. He took my hand in his wasted feeble fingers, and talked alittle with his hollow, death-smitten voice. I was to leave town thenext day for a fortnight's absence, and whom had they to see to them?The mother named her landlord, --she knew no one else able to do muchfor them. It was the name of a physician of wealth and high socialposition, well known in the city as the owner of many small tenements, and of whom hard things had been said as to his strictness incollecting what he thought his dues. Be that as it may, my memoryassociates him only with ready and active beneficence. His name hassince been known the civilized world over, from his having been thevictim of one of the most painful tragedies in the records of thecriminal law. I tried the experiment of calling upon him; and, havingdrawn him away from the cheerful fire, sofa, and curtains of aluxurious parlor, I told him the simple tale of woe, of one of histenants, unknown to him even by name. He did not hesitate; and I wellremember how, in that biting, eager air, at a late hour, he drew hiscloak about his thin and bent form, and walked off with me across theCommon, and to the South End, nearly two miles of an exposed walk, tothe scene of misery. He gave his full share, and more, of kindness andmaterial aid; and, as George's mother told me, on my return, had withmedical aid and stores, and a clergyman, made the boy's end ascomfortable and hopeful as possible. 

The Alert made two more voyages to the coast of California, successful, and without a mishap, as usual, and was sold by Messrs. Bryant andSturgis, in 1843, to Mr. Thomas W. Williams, a merchant of New London, Connecticut, who employed her in the whale-trade in the Pacific. Shewas as lucky and prosperous there as in the merchant service. When Iwas at the Sandwich Islands in 1860, a man was introduced to me ashaving commanded the Alert on two cruises, and his friends told me thathe was as proud of it as if he had commanded a frigate. 

I am permitted to publish the following letter from the owner of theAlert, giving her later record and her historic end, --captured andburned by the rebel Alabama:--

New London, March 17, 1868. 

Richard H. Dana, Esq. :

Dear Sir, --I am happy to acknowledge the receipt of your favor of the14th inst. , and to answer your inquiries about the good ship Alert. Ibought her of Messrs. Bryant and Sturgis in the year 1843, for my firmof Williams and Haven, for a whaler, in which business she wassuccessful until captured by the rebel steamer Alabama, September, 1862, making a period of more than nineteen years, during which shetook and delivered at New London upwards of twenty-five thousandbarrels of whale and sperm oil. She sailed last from this port, August30, 1862, for Hurd's Island (the newly discovered land south ofKerguelen's), commanded by Edwin Church, and was captured and burned onthe 9th of September following, only ten days out, near or close to theAzores, with thirty barrels of sperm oil on board, and while her boatswere off in pursuit of whales. 

The Alert was a favorite ship with all owners, officers, and men whohad anything to do with her; and I may add almost all who heard hername asked if that was the ship the man went in who wrote the bookcalled "Two Years before the Mast"; and thus we feel, with you, nodoubt, a sort of sympathy at her loss, and that, too, in such a manner, and by wicked acts of our own countrymen. 

My partner, Mr. Haven, sends me a note from the office this P. M. , saying that he had just found the last log-book, and would send up thisevening a copy of the last entry on it; and if there should be anythingof importance I will enclose it to you, and if you have any furtherinquiries to put, I will, with great pleasure, endeavor to answer them. 

Remaining very respectfully and truly yours, THOMAS W. WILLIAMS. 

P. S. --Since writing the above I have received the extract from thelog-book, and enclose the same. 

THE LAST ENTRY IN THE LOG-BOOK OF THE ALERT. 

"September 9, 1862. 

"Shortly after the ship came to the wind, with the main yard aback, wewent alongside and were hoisted up, when we found we were prisoners ofwar, and our ship a prize to the Confederate steamer Alabama. We werethen ordered to give up all nautical instruments and lettersappertaining to any of us. Afterwards we were offered the privilege, as they called it, of joining the steamer or signing a parole of honornot to serve in the army or navy of the United States. Thank God noone accepted the former of these offers. We were all then ordered toget our things ready in haste, to go on shore, --the ship running offshore all the time. We were allowed four boats to go on shore in, andwhen we had got what things we could take in them, were ordered to getinto the boats and pull for the shore, --the nearest land being aboutfourteen miles off, --which we reached in safety, and, shortly after, saw the ship in flames. 

"So end all our bright prospects, blasted by a gang of miscreants, whocertainly can have no regard for humanity so long as they continue tofoster their so-called peculiar institution, which is now destroyingour country. "

I love to think that our noble ship, with her long record of goodservice and uniform success, attractive and beloved in her life, shouldhave passed, at her death, into the lofty regions of internationaljurisprudence and debate, forming a part of the body of the "AlabamaClaims"; that, like a true ship, committed to her element once for allat her launching, she perished at sea, and, without an extreme use oflanguage, we may say, a victim in the cause of her country. 

R. H. D. , Jr. 

BOSTON, May 6, 1869. 

[1] Pronounced _Leese_.