BAD WEATHER. 31 



south, and the knowledge seemed to have quite an 

 enlivening effect upon our Portuguese shipmates. 



Most of them belonged there, and although there was 

 but the faintest prospect of their getting ashore upon 

 any pretext whatever, the possibility of seeing their 

 island homes again seemed to quite transform them. 

 Hitherto they had been very moody and exclusive, never 

 associating with us on the white side, or attempting to 

 be at all familiar. A mutual atmosphere of suspicion, 

 in fact, seemed to pervade our quarters, making things 

 already uncomfortable enough, still more so. Now, 

 however, they fraternized with us, and in a variety of 

 uncouth ways made havoc of the English tongue, as 

 they tried to impress us with the beauty, fertility and 

 general incomparability of their beloved Cape Verds. 

 Of the eleven white men besides myself in the forecastle, 

 there were a middle-aged German baker, who had bolted 

 from Buffalo ; two Hungarians, who looked like noblemen 

 disguised — in dirt ; two slab-sided Yankees of about 

 22 from farms in Vermont ; a drayman from New York ; 

 a French Canadian from the neighbourhood of Quebec ; 

 two Italians from Genoa ; and two nondescripts that I 

 never found out the origin of. Imagine, then, the babel 

 of sound, and think — but no, it is impossible to think, 

 what sort of a jargon was comj)ounded of all these 

 varying elements of language. 



One fortunate thing, there was peace below. Indeed, 

 the spirit seemed completely taken out of all of them, and 

 by some devilish ingenuity the afterguard had been able 

 to BOW distrust between them all, while treating them 

 like dogs, so that the miseries of their life were never 

 openly discussed. My position among them gave me at 

 times some uneasiness. Though I tried to be helpful to 



