OUTWARD BOUND. 3 



From the time we signed the articles, we were never 

 left to ourselves. Truculent-looking men accompanied 

 us to our several boarding-houses, paid our debts for 

 us, finally bringing us by boat to a ship lying out in 

 the bay. As we passed under her stern, I read the 

 name Cachalot, of New Bedford ; but as soon as we 

 ranged alongside, I realized that I was booked for the 

 sailor's horror — a cruise in a whaler. Badly as I 

 wanted to get to sea, I had not bargained for this, and 

 would have run some risks to get ashore again ; but they 

 took no chances, so we were all soon aboard. Before 

 going forward, I took a comprehensive glance around, 

 and saw that I was on board of a vessel belonging to 

 a type which has almost disappeared off the face of the 

 waters. A more perfect contrast to the trim-built 

 English clipper-ships that I had been accustomed to 

 I could hardly imagine. She was one of a class cha- 

 racterized by sailors as " built by the mile, and cut off 

 in lengths as you want 'em," bow and stern almost alike, 

 masts standing straight as broomsticks, and bowsprit 

 soaring upwards at an angle of about forty-five degrees. 

 She was as old-fashioned in her rig as in her hull ; but 

 I must not go into the technical differences between 

 rigs, for fear of making myself tedious. Eight in the 

 centre of the deck, occupying a space of about ten feet 

 by eight, was a square erection of brickwork, upon 

 which my wondering gaze rested longest, for I had not 

 the slightest idea what it could be. But I was rudely 

 roused from my meditations by the harsh voice of one 

 of the ofiicers, who shouted, " Naow then, git below 

 an' stow yer dunnage, 'n look lively up agin." I took 

 the broad hint, and shouldering my traps, hurried for- 

 ward to the fo'lk'sle, which was below deck. Tumbling 



