Il8 THE WHALE HUNTERS 



hundredth time as Thomas approached him on the 

 poop deck. 



'Mr. Hodge, sir/ said Thomas. 'I'm to report from the 

 captain, that he expects to raise Tristan da Cunha by 

 breakfast to-morrow. 



'As if I didn't know that already,' growled Hodge, 

 'after all the times I've done this doggarned trip.' 



Thomas could not suppress his amusement at this reply. 

 The voyage was still too young for him to know Hodge 

 very well and he beheved the remark to be made half 

 jokingly. 



But the roar that came from Hodge left him in no doubt. 



'Take that grin off your face, Oakley. I know your old 

 man practically owns this ship but that doesn't mean 

 you can take liberties with me. You think that you'll 

 step roughshod over others and be lording it on your own 

 poop-deck in a few years, don't you? But you're not 

 there yet, so pick up that bucket and broom and give 

 this poop-deck a swab down. Jump to it !' 



Hodge's tirade and humiliating order stung Thomas to 

 anger. 



'You are wrong, Mr. Hodge. You should know my 

 father as a fair man and for myself I expect no favours.' 



'Swab this deck!' shouted Hodge. 



Slowly and resentfully Thomas filled the bucket, 

 emptied it upon the spotless deck. As he wielded the 

 broom several of the hands working amidships found it 

 hard to stifle their amusement at the sight of an officer 

 engaged in so menial a task. 



It was an incident that was to rankle in Thomas's 

 memory for a long, long time. 



