Jack in the Forecastle; or, Incidents in the Early Life of Hawser MartingaleSleeper, John Sherburne
General
Jack in the Forecastle; or, Incidents in the Early Life of Hawser Martingale
Sleeper, John Sherburne
Seafaring life
Jonas, in behalf of the crew of the Casket, stoutly but respectfully
denied the correctness of the statement, so far as himself or his
shipmates were concerned, and was about making an explanation, which
must have been satisfactory, when he was interrupted by the excited
Briton, who not only gave him the lie direct, but went so far as to
define, in coarse and profane language, the particular character of the
lie.
Jonas, although a model of subordination on shipboard, nevertheless
possessed the spirit of a man, and would not brook abuse or insolence
from any one who had no rightful authority over him. His eye sparkled,
his lip quivered, and his fingers convulsively contracted, while he
remarked, in a tone somewhat emphatic, "When a blackguard gives a
gentleman the lie, he is, of course, prepared to defend himself!"
Acting upon this supposition he levelled a blow at the Englishman's
face, which laid his cheek open to the bone, and stretched him on the
wharf in double-quick time, as flat as a halibut!
Here was a pretty business! The affair looked serious for Jonas, as the
Englishman swore vengeance against the Yankee ruffian, if there was any
law or justice among a frog-eating people! Jonas was arrested, but by
the kind agency of Mr. Beasley, the American consul, he was relieved
from restraint on payment of a moderate fine. The choleric Briton was
taught a valuable lesson, and in all likelihood put a curb on his tongue
ever afterwards when talking to strangers, especially if the stranger
happened to be a Yankee!
After having discharged our cargo of cotton, we sailed from Havre in
ballast. We encountered a strong head wind in the chops of the Channel,
and were beating about for several days. One night we were steering a
course about north-north-west, under single-reefed topsails, courses
and spanker, with the wind at west, while the fog was so thick that
the jib-boom could hardly be seen from the forecastle, and supposed
ourselves at least thirty miles to the southward of the Scilly Islands.
Jonas and myself, who were walking the main deck, while the boatswain
was leaning lazily against the quarter rail, and the captain and mate
were sleeping in their berths below, were startled by a dull, moaning
sound, which, ever and anon, seemed to come up from under the lee bow.
The noise became more distinct. "What can it be?" said I, alarmed.
"I know it now," exclaimed Jonas. "It is the ROTE of the breakers
dashing against the rocks, and we must be lively, or we shall soon be in
kingdom come. Boatswain!" shouted he, "Breakers! Breakers ahead! Call
up the captain!" and hastening forward he made such a noise on the
forecastle as to rouse out all hands, who rushed on deck marvellously
lightly clad, but prepared to encounter some mighty evil.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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