THE AMERICAN WHALEMAN. 225 



Bingham denied somewhat roughly, saying that he had just 

 sat down. The men on the forehatch confirmed his state- 

 ment, when the mate ordered them " to shut up, and not 

 put their oar in this muss." Blows soon followed high 

 words, and the mate assaulted the bulky Bingham with the 

 tongs aforesaid, and chased him, with oath and blow, into the 

 forecastle. And one deponent added : " In course there'll be 

 the devil to pay. The officer of the deck has had his head 

 punched, and been jammed down in the deck-pot. He didn't 

 get satisfaction out of Bingham's head with old Blowhard's 

 tongs, so of course there'll be a werry nice little muss." The 

 case was before the court. 



"Jack was embarrassed never hero more, 

 And as he knew not what to say, he swore, 

 Nor swore in vain : the long congenial sound 

 Revived Ben Bunting from his pipe profound ; 

 He drew it from his mouth, and looked full wise, 

 But merely added to the oath ' his eyes ;' 

 Thus rendering the imperfect phrase complete." 



The bow-oarsman got out his "Bowditch's Navigator," 

 and opened it at the well-thumbed digest of the United 

 States marine laws. The scene afforded a striking picture. 

 In the confines of the ship's forecastle the foremast-hands 

 were crowded. Some were lying in their bunks that the 

 others might sit on the sea-chests. Old Tom, with wisdom 

 written in every line of his aged face a face profound as 

 Jack Bunsby's was sitting on a bread-kit, holding the flick- 

 ering, smoky, forecastle lamp over the open book, to enable 

 the improvised lawyer to find safe moorings. The men wait- 

 ed silently for their sailing or fighting orders, as might be 

 decided upon. The moment was trying to one who was yet 

 fresh from the peaceful influences of that friendly sect which 

 teaches " that ye resist not evil," and that " whosoever shall 

 smite thee upon one cheek, turn to him the other also.-" It 



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