The next day the mate came to the fo'c'sle and examined the sick man and reported aft. Frenchy had said he was much better, which was a lie, but a wise one. I then prevailed upon Chow to give me some cabin stew that he was preparing, and with this under his belt and a hook pot of coffee, cabin style, Frenchy felt better. I also broke out a set of brand-new underwear that I had been saving against an emergency. It was extra heavy, and with this on him and the good food, he felt like a new man. Chow fed Frenchy for three days, and fed him well, after I had prevailed upon Chips to give him the parrot, Jake. Fortunately Frenchy recovered before Jake got in his fine work in the galley, for in less than a week the latter was back under the fo'c'sle head again, having started his talk about "to hell with the grub," etc. This was more than Chow could stand, and one night his cage shot out of the lee door of the galley amid a series of quirks and screeches, and Fred rescued the bird from a comber that was about to curl over the bulwark. Our precautions in the way of preventer gear and rolling tackles were employed as on the passage out, and the relieving tackles were hooked to the tiller in the after wheelhouse. Captain Nichols also had two heavy hawsers bighted about the base of the mizzen mast and flaked down on the cabin top ready to pay out through the quarter chocks should we by any chance broach to. At the end of these we had constructed two improvised sea anchors or drags. Under ordinary circumstances we would have been hove to in such weather as we were having, but the wind was fair and the captain determined to run before it as long as possible. Discomfort and hardship on board were not altogether confined to the fo'c'sle. The after cabin was washed out a number of times and the mate was swamped by the seas backing up in the waist and running over the sills of the cabin doors. Mr. Zerk was much less violent during the stormy days. The hard drive to the south and east put a feeling of common danger into the minds of all; it had a very beneficial effect. So far as the psychic aspects of the voyage went, we were happy. Also, we were, with the possible exception of Black Joe and Kahemuku of our watch, and the unfortunate Aahee of starboard, a very ready and smart crowd. When I say possible exception in referring to the Kanakas I mean that these unhappy people were always running with the crowd, and while always in the way they bent what beef they had to any gear we might be hauling on. Sailors have a weird wail, or dirge, without words, to which they sway at brace or halyards and Black Joe became proficient in this, throwing his whole spirit into the thing. Even in those days of actuality the perfect picture of glistening oilskins and the splashing sea, with the human cry of labor mounting above the snap of the storm, was driven home to me--and I was mighty wet and tired, too.