“Look here, young fellow, don’t you get smart with me. I’m as good as anybody. Now I want to know who told you that we are goin’ to recruit at the Marquesas.” “I keep my own secrets, Mr. Kreelman.” I permitted a little bit of a smile to come to my countenance, and, as I walked away, I felt that Kreelman, although really a friend to me, was as curious as any old busybody, and I resolved not to furnish him with the information he desired. Within a week we struck and killed two sperm whales, which stowed down about a hundred barrels. There was nothing unusual in their capture, and the incidents attending cutting-in, trying-out and stowing down were similar to those we had already experienced. Now came an interesting episode, its first occurrence, but to be repeated frequently during the rest of the voyage. Three men wanted things out of the slop chest. I supposed that that chest was an enormous affair, several times the size of a huge trunk—an article of superior finish like mine, only three or four times larger. I found out that the slop chest was only a figure of speech and that there was no real chest at all. The clothing and other articles were put in large casks, which later were to be filled with oil, and were only taken out as they were called for. On this occasion the men wanted light shirts. So the carpenter, who had charge of the business, brought up an armful of cheap shirts for the men to make the selection. The garments were of different sizes. As a man held one of them against his body, to determine the fit, a button fell off. There was a general laugh. Some one called out, “They charge for these shirts twice what they are worth, so they’ll make a deduction of five cents for the button.” The laugh was renewed and the carpenter endeavored to repress it. The appearance of the captain was followed by silence. The carpenter gave the name of each man and the garment selected, and the captain made entries in a book. As far as I could see, the men didn’t have much to say about the price of the articles, and after making the entries the captain did not announce them or, if he did, it was in a low tone. Resort to the slop chest was more frequent later, but it ceased to be of interest save to the participants. I knew little, practically, about navigation, but I could tell something by the sun, and I was sure that we were bound for the Marquesas Islands. One morning no one was ordered aloft. This was the first day since our departure when the crow’s nest was not occupied. The Kanaka said to me, “Me know what up. See land soon.” The prediction was realized, for within an hour came the glad cry,—“Land ho!” It was now April, 1860, and, with the exception of the bleak and barren coast of Terra del Fuego, this was the first land we had seen since leaving Pico, and, in all this time, we had not had a case of scurvy or any kind of sickness, and hence an unopened medicine chest. CHAPTER VII