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Updated: June 11, 2025
I found the foretopmast gone over the side, in a tangle of torn rope at which all hands were furiously hacking. The mate was on the fo'c'sle hacking at some gear with a tomahawk. I did not see the captain. "Mr. mate," I cried. "I want some balsam, quick." "Get out of this," he shouted. "Get out of this. I can't attend to your hurts. Don't come bothering here."
"That's it, sir; so if you'll give me the watch there by the fo'c'sle hatch, I'll promise you I won't go to sleep." "Take the watch, then," said Mark; and then suddenly, "Why, what does that mean?" For just then the prisoners began in chorus to whistle an American air, accompanying it with a rhythmic clapping of hands.
In the break of the poop there showed the light of Mr. Fant's window, where he lay in his bunk, relaxing his grisly official personality with a book and a cigar. In deft haste Goodwin stepped to the fore side of the fo'c'sle, where he would be hidden should the watchman take a fancy to look out of his galley. In him a single emotion was constant: he had a need to find Tom Mowbray.
He had seen men reading books in the fo'c'sle occasionally and old newspapers, but of literature, fictional or otherwise, he had no more idea than the bull sea elephants of astronomy. This she intuitively felt and so held her tongue. But she had interested him, and she went on, producing from her memory the story of the Forty Thieves.
"I shipped as a boy on a fruit-tramp for Valencia in Spain. And I believe that saved my life. For my lungs were beginning to be troublesome." The fruit-tramp had not been out more than two days when the fo'c'sle hands selected the lad, since he had some education, to be their spokesman on a deputation to the captain.
He was up an down with his medicines and his instruments all day long, and used to make notes of the cases in a big pocket-book, and read 'em to the second mate at mealtimes. "The fo'c'sle had been turned into hospital about a week, an' I was on deck doing some odd job or the other, when the cook comes up to me pulling a face as long as a fiddle.
At noon, just after dinner, a few cat's-paws curdled the milky-blue whiteness of the glassy surface, and the water once more began to talk beneath the bow-sprit. It was very hot. The sun spun silently like a spinning brass discus over the mainmast. On the fo'c'sle head the Chinamen were asleep or smoking opium. It was Charlie's watch. Kitchell dozed in his hammock in the shadow of the mainsheet.
Peroo went on as if he were talking to himself. "Six-seven-ten monsoons since, I was watch on the fo'c'sle of the ehwah the Kumpani's big boat-and there was a big tufan; green and black water beating, and I held fast to the life-lines, choking under the waters.
It's one man less in the fo'c'sle mess, and dead men tell no tales; and now we'll have to do the work a bit short-handed; but we can clean it up between us now, and no more fighting going on." Petrak pulled the body out after him, and Thirkle helped him carry it into the brush, where they dumped it without ceremony, and Thirkle found another bottle of brandy and offered it to Petrak.
Wot's the matter? "'Touch-touch of ague; I get it sometimes, ses Uncle Dick. "'I want to see this man Finch, ses 'Arry, shaking 'is knobby stick. 'Muffit, my name is, and I want to tell 'im so. "Uncle Dick nearly shook 'imself on to the floor. "'I I'll go and see if 'e's in the fo'c'sle, he ses at last.
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