“Main-braces again now; overhaul those spilling-lines and that main lee inner buntline; again your main-braces; crojjick-tack, ---- ---- it; look alive there and get that main-sheet aft; lead it to the capstan; heave; in she comes, that’s well. Main and crojjick bowlines now; that’s the style. Haul taut the weather-braces fore and aft, and clear up the decks.” [Illustration: Hauling taut the braces] This oration is delivered in a hurricane voice to an accompaniment of roaring wind and flying spray, which sometimes enshrouds the whole forecastle like a snow-squall; and the mates whiz about, driving the men before them, and they in turn rend the air with their cries as they come in on the braces. Each man seems to have an individual ejaculation when hauling away, only one man, of course, singing out at each rope; but as there are often half a dozen knots of men at work, there are as many strange yells. Louis, the Frenchman, says, “Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho,” beginning very deep and ending in a falsetto; Broadhead, one of the youngest and smartest seamen in the ship, eases his mind with “Hoo-oop, come in with her; oh, fiddle-strings; oh, split the wind”; Olafsen cries, “Ha-joop, ha-joop”; while Timothy Powers, the wild, carrot-topped Irishman, screams, “Yah ha-a-a-a, yah ha-a-a-a,” like a freight train with the brakes on. Best of all, though, are the chanties; and as the men know each other well by this time, there are plenty of them; and good old songs they are, songs of the days of ’49, into which the men throw heart and soul. Some of the best ones for hauling are, “Blow, my Bully Boys, Blow,” “A Long Time Ago,” and “A Poor Old Man,” which latter two I believe that I mentioned before; while some of the melodies sung to pumping ship are even better. One is “The Plains of Mexico,” entirely in the minor, with a weird effect; another, “The Banks of the Sacramento,” each verse of which ends,-- “For there’s plenty of gold, So I am told, On the banks of the Sacramento.” [Illustration: “Blow, my bully boys, blow”] Still another, “The Girls of Dublin Town,” is sung to the Southern tune of the “Bonnie Blue Flag,” the final words of each stanza being,-- “Then it’s hurrah, hurrah, For the girls of Dubberlin town; Hurrah for the bonnie green flag, And the harp without a crown.” “John Brown’s Whiskey-Bottle’s Empty on the Shelf” and “Give a Man Time to Roll a Man Down” are too well known to need comment. It is a fine sight to see eight muscular fellows at the pump-handles in the dusk of the evening, their broad backs standing forth against the dark recesses, rising and falling as they sing their favorite choruses, MacFoy of the port watch and Murphy of the starboard always supplying the solo parts. Latitude, 7° 56′ south; longitude, 30° 4′ west. +June 13+