Then came the thud of blows, easily distinguishable above the splashing of the refuse water that had accumulated to leeward from the sluicing of the decks, with the convulsive movements of two pairs of arms and legs mingled together in a confused mass--one woolly head being occasionally uplifted above the other and immediately as quickly dragged down again. The crew all the while screamed with laughter, enjoying the combat with the utmost relish, and without attempting to interfere in any way between the angry antagonists. "Stop the rascals, stop them!" sang out Captain Miles, jumping down into the waist and hurrying to the scene of action. "They'll either kill or drown each other!" CHAPTER EIGHT. POOR JACKSON. As soon as the seamen heard the captain's words, uttered as they were in a tone which they well knew from experience was meant to be obeyed, several of them at once rushed to where the two darkeys were still struggling in the lee scuppers; when Jackson, the tall young sailor whom I had already noticed for his smartness, stepping forward in advance of the others and stooping down at the same time, lifted up the combatants on to their feet, holding one in each hand as easily as if the two big negroes had been only little dolls. "Be quiet, I tell 'ee," he cried, giving Cuffee, the cook, who was the most obstreperous, a shake as he clutched him by the back of his woolly head in the same way as a terrier holds a rat; "be quiet, I tell 'ee, or I'll pitch you overboard!" So saying, and emphasising the threat by raising Cuffee at arm's length, to the level of the bulwarks, he dragged the irate pair along to where Captain Miles was standing by the mainmast bitts, there setting them down before him for judgment. "Now, you quarrelsome black rascals!" exclaimed the captain confronting them, "what the dickens do you mean by kicking up all this bobbery? I don't allow any fighting aboard my ship." "It ain't me, Mass' Cap'en," said Jake eagerly, "it's dat nasty niggah dere dat make all de muss 'bout nuffin' at all!" "Dat one big lie," retorted the other scornfully. "He come 'teal de coffee out ob de coppers, an' w'en I 'peak to him like gen'leman he hit um in the eyeball, him." "Belieb me, Mass' Cap'en, I'se no tief," said Jake indignantly, drawing himself up and looking very much as if he were going to pitch into Cuffee again. "I'se only go in de galley to get um coffee for Mass' Tom, an' I'se ax dat poor trash dere to gib um cup in de most perliteful way as um please; an' I no sooner done dis dan he catch um crack wid one big ladle on de shin--golly, um hurt now! Den, ob course, I hit um back in brace ob shakes, an' we go down in rough an' tumble togedder." "My, what big 'tory!" exclaimed the cook in apparent amazement at Jake's mendacity. "Me go forrud to clean de fis' for breakfus, an' w'en um come back in galley, dere I see dat hangman tief takin' de coffee, an' den--"