264 
.FOREST AND STREAM 
Aug. 30, 1913. 
An Old Sailor’s Yarn 
Part Two 
By HENRY D. ATWOOD 
T HIS answer caused me to be all the more 
strongly convinced of the truth of my sus¬ 
picions, and that my companion meant to 
deliver me up to the authorities upon reaching 
"The Three Cups,” or at farthest the gates of 
the town. 
However, we soon came to another hostelry, 
where the passes were viseed by a policeman, 
stationed there for that purpose, and the wagon 
was then allowed to go on. 
At dusk we reached Cape Town. 
‘‘Now is your time!” said the teamster. 
Whereat I jumped from the wagon and con¬ 
cealed myself within an old deserted hut, where 
I remained during the night. 
I never saw or heard of my fellow travelers 
again, although I would have liked especially to 
reaching there long before our vessel arrived 
with her pilot. 
However, when I landed at London I fell 
in with Mr. ’Morgan, who welcomed me as one 
rescued from the grave, and after making many 
inquiries, and taking me to drive with him, he 
gave me some funds, telling me he supposed I 
wanted to go back to his old place, and see my 
former friends, to which I gladly assented. 
Arriving at the old homestead I was in¬ 
stalled in my previous position and made much 
of by my master. This excited the envy of the 
other servants, who began to talk of my being 
a favorite, and do all the petty meannesses which 
those with low dispositions invariably practice 
upon others whom they see being advanced be¬ 
yond themselves. 
SITTING ON ROYAL MAINYARD. 
meet my first companion on different ground 
where I could have settled conclusions with him 
more satisfactorily by giving him the beating he 
well deserved for his contemplated treachery, for 
I firmly believed he intended to deliver me up 
to the authorities at Cape Towm. 
I waited in the hut until toward morning, 
when I hastened down to the wdiarves and ac¬ 
costed a seaman who was about to put off to 
one of the whalers, and asked him if he would 
take me on board. 
“Yes,” said he, “for one-half fare.” I 
agreed to this, and when safely on board one 
of the sailors asked me if I did not want to 
go home with the ship. I told him “Yes, I did.” 
Accordingly he asked the mate if he would 
be willing to take me, and he consented to do 
so. There was, however, as I soon after ascer¬ 
tained, an officer on board who said that I was 
a deserter, and I was afraid that upon getting 
back to England he would lodge information 
against me. 
This officer upon our arrival in England left 
the ship at Southampton and made for London, 
The talk soon began to go around that I 
had deserted from the King’s ship. Now, al¬ 
though none of the servants would dare openly 
to inform against me, yet they might do so se¬ 
cretly. Mr. Morgan, having some suspicion of 
how things were going, told me that he was 
afraid I could not stay with him in safety, and 
asked if I did not want to go to sea again. 
As 1 had endured the slights and been deep¬ 
ly touched by the treatment received from the 
servants, I unhesitatingly answered, “Yes, I 
would.” 
The fee received by an informer was five 
guineas, or twenty-five dollars, and the tempta¬ 
tion might be too great for an envious and 
avaricious mind to withstand. Wherefore my 
master got me a situation on board of an India- 
man then lying at Bristol and bade me good-bye, 
at the same time giving me some words of good 
counsel, and making me promise to come and 
see him again if I could before the vessel sailed. 
I had previously learned the consoling effects 
of ardent spirits under calamities and depressing- 
circumstances, and at once applied some of my 
patron's bounty to the purchase of sundry 
flagons, well filled with the fluid most palatable 
to my taste. Upon arriving on shipboard I of¬ 
fered plenteous drinks to my shipmates, and so 
freely did we indulge and so wildly carouse that 
all hands were completely under its effects, and 
in short order there was a perfect pandemonium 
between decks. 
The result was, I received my discharge on 
the following morning, and while I was walking 
along the wharves disconsolately and repenting 
of my foolishness on the even of the vessel’s 
departure, whom should 1 meet but Mr. Morgan 
himself, who had come for the purpose of bid¬ 
ding me farewell. He had been informed by the 
captain of my conduct, and as he came up with 
me, pointing to the dark and forbidding aspect 
of a low-browed building familiarly known as 
“Bristol Jail,” he said: “Henry, the next place 
I expect to hear from you is over there.” 
1 was conscious stricken and made no reply. 
Seeing which my patron endeavored to console 
me, gave me some good advice again, and took 
his leave. I at once started for Cheltenham, 
where my married brother lived, and arrived 
there on Saturday night, as also did my sister, 
wffio came to make a visit. 
I remained until Monday morning with my 
brother’s family, when I told them I was about 
to leave for America or Australia, one or the 
other, I did not care which, and bade them all 
a last farewell. 
Upon getting to London once more I ship¬ 
ped on the Fergus, and we got into the Channel 
the same night, while a dense fog prevailed. We 
were almost immediately run into by a ship 
under full sail, which tore out all our masts, and 
they went by the board. We were forced to put 
back to port, which we did not reach for three 
days, making but slow progress with jury masts 
and spare sails. 
Leaving the ship as she was hauled up, I 
concluded to work my passage around to Wales 
to see what could be found new and interesting- 
in that locality. When I arrived there I could 
find nothing to do, nor could I understand the 
people or make them understand me. The lan¬ 
guage was worse than Dutch. 
I took the first opportunity that presented 
itself of shipping on a craft bound for Liver¬ 
pool, from whence I again went to London. 
Finally I set sail in a whaler, agreeing to re¬ 
ceive no wages for the voyage. 
We arrived after a long passage at Joannin, 
a port of the Caroline Islands, where I deserted 
again and fled to the mountains, for it is about 
sure death to sleep out in the lowlands where a 
stranger is likely to catch the Mohammedan’s 
spotted fever. 
I ascended the mountains for upward of two 
long hours, and had just got to the overhanging 
ledge of a vast rock, when it began to thunder 
and lighten as a prelude to the most terrific 
tempest I ever witnessed. The rain fell in tor¬ 
rents, and 1 must confess that I felt terrified 
to remain exposed to the full force of the ele¬ 
ments, solitary and alone on these deserted 
heights, so I again descended toward the plain. 
Arriving there in a wet and bedraggled con¬ 
dition I entered a banana field, and crept for 
shelter under one of these plants, whose long 
and broad leaves at first shed the rain like an 
umbrella, but soon became wet through, and the 
water dripped from them the same as from a 
