104 A YEAR WITH A WHALER, 



" Boy," he said to the Kanaka cabin boy, who 

 has been listening with open mouth and bulging 

 eyes to this tirade, " get this man a cup of water 

 and a biscuit." 



I had had nothing to eat since breakfast, and 

 I sat down at the cabin table and ate my one 

 hardtack and drank my quart tin of water with 

 a relish. After my meal, the captain fastened 

 my handcuff again and jerked a httle hatch out 

 of the floor. 



" Get down there," he said. 



I climbed down and he clapped the hatch on 

 again. I was in darkness except for the light 

 that filtered from the cabin lamps through the 

 four cracks of the hatch. When my eyes had 

 become accustomed to the dimness, I made out 

 that I was in the ship's run, where the provisions 

 for the captain's table were stored. I rummaged 

 about as well as I could in my handcuffs and 

 found a sack of raisins open and a box of soda 

 crackers. To these I helped myself generously. 

 From a forecastle viewpoint they were rare 

 dainties, and I filled my empty stomach with 

 them. I had not tasted anything so good since 

 I had my last piece of pie ashore. Pie! Dear 



