From then on until flood tide, several hours later, both men and officers were busy in stowing away and making things generally snug. After his duties at the table were over, Ralph had little to do but to watch what was going on around, which he did eagerly, striving to master, as well as he could, the mystery and duties of the strange life upon which he was entering. As the hour grew late, only the watch on deck, together with the officer in charge, remained above; that is except Ralph, who found everything interesting. The first mate was in his berth, and the captain writing in the cabin. Mr. Duff was walking to and fro near the wheel, while in the forecastle the major part of the crew were in their bunks. It might have been near midnight. Ralph, having seated himself on the step between the quarter and the main decks, had at last fallen into a doze, with his head against the bulwarks. Captain Gary came up, cast a look about and then consulted his watch. "We might as well make sail, Mr. Duff," said he in a low tone. "Call all hands." Then he returned to the cabin. A moment later Bludson's shrill whistle aroused Ralph with a start. The deck became alive with moving figures in answer to the boatswain's hoarse summons. "Hoist away with a will, men. Yo--heave--ho! Up she goes." To such and similar cries, Ralph saw the great main sail unfold its vast expanse in obedience to the measured hauling of a line of men, who uttered a monotonous half shout as they bent to the work. Another gang soon had the foresail going upward, after which the capstan was manned. To Ralph these proceedings were thrillingly attractive. It was his first bewildering taste of the duties of a sailor's life. As the men pushed with a will at the capstan bars, and the ship drew toward her anchor, some one struck up a song that ran somewhat as follows: "A bucklin' wind and a swashin' tide, Yo ho, ho, boys, yo ho, ho! If I had Nancy by my side, With a yo ho, ho, ho, boys, yo ho, ho!" While there did not seem to be much sense attached to the words, the manner in which they were roared forth, and the push altogether with which they drove the bars at the end of each line, made a vivid impression on the mountain lad's imagination. He felt glad that he had elected to be a sailor, even though he began as an humble cabin boy. There was an element of dash and danger connected with the life that appealed to the natural daring of his disposition. "I shall certainly see enough of the world," thought he, "and I shall leave that miserable feud far, far behind." With the anchor a-trip, the men waited for the final signal. As a light westerly puff swelled the mainsail, which was drawn flat, Mr. Duff uttered a low "Now then," that was repeated loudly by the boatswain, who acted also as a sort of sailing master. "Yo ho, ho! Heave 'er up, hearties!"