92 A YEAR WITH A WHALER 



reached the deck, we saw a gang of sailors work- 

 ing about an open hatch. 



" Hello, mates," said Richard. " We are mer- 

 chant seamen and want to clear out from a 

 blooming whaler. Stow us away, won't you?" 



The sailors didn't seem to take kindly to the 

 proposition. Perhaps they were afraid of get- 

 ting into trouble. But they told us we might go 

 down in the fore-peak of the ship and stow our- 

 selves away. Richard and I climbed down three 

 decks and found ourselves in the chain lockers 

 deep in the ship's bow. It was pitch dark down 

 there and we lay upon the sliip's cable in the 

 farthest corners. For three hours we huddled 

 there in silence. 



Just when we were beginning to congratulate 

 ourselves that our escape would be successful, the 

 hatch was pulled off suddenly and tliree Kanaka 

 policemen with drawn clubs came leaping down 

 upon us. 



" Come out of this, you," they yelled, swearing 

 at us and brandishing their billets. The jig was 

 up; resistance would have got us only broken 

 heads. We were led upon deck and escorted to- 



