8 THE CRUISE OF THE "CACHALOT:' 



well, it was not steering, it was sculling ; the old bum- 

 boat was wobbling all around like a drunken tailor with 

 two left legs. I fairly shook with apprehension lest the 

 mate should come and look in the compass. I had been 

 accustomed to hard words if I did not steer within half a 

 point each way; but here was a " gadget" that worked 

 me to death, the result being a wake like a letter S. 

 Gradually I got the hang of the thing, becoming easier 

 in my mind on my own account. Even that was not an 

 unmixed blessing, for I had now some leisure to listen 

 to the goings-on around the deck. 



Such brutality I never witnessed before. On board 

 of English ships (except men-of-war) there is practi- 

 cally no discipline, which is bad, but this sort of thing 

 was maddening. I knew how desperately ill all those 

 poor wretches were, how helpless and awkward they 

 would be if quite hale and hearty ; but there was abso- 

 lutely no pity for them, the officers seemed to be in- 

 capable of any feelings of compassion whatever. My 

 heart sank within me as I thought of what lay before me, 

 although I did not fear that their treatment would also 

 be mine, since I was at least able to do my duty, and 

 willing to work hard to keep out of trouble. Then I 

 began to wonder what sort of voyage I was in for, how 

 long it would last, and what my earnings were likely to 

 be, none of which things I had the faintest idea of. 



Fortunately, I was alone in the world. No one, as far 

 as I knew, cared a straw what became of me ; so that I 

 was spared any worry on that head. And I had also a 

 very definite and well-established trust in God, which I 

 can now look back and see was as fully justified as I 

 then believed it to be. So, as I could not shut my ears 

 to the cruelties being carried on, nor banish thought by 



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