Chapter XV: Part 15

Already we have begun to estimate precisely when we will reach port; if we do it in six days, or by next Saturday, it will mean only a hundred and fifty miles a day, or six and a half per hour, which we should do without trouble if we do not fall to leeward of the Farallones.

Mr. Rarx is still very feeble, and will evidently have to be carried ashore. Latitude, 38° 10′ north; longitude, 139° 10′ west.

+September 13+

A magnificent day, though not quite so much wind as we would like to have. Up to ten this morning we did passably well, but since then it has been pretty light, though there is a bank of wool-packs rising in the west, foretelling more wind from that desirable quarter. We made three degrees of departure, and to our chagrin, not to say consternation, fifty-eight miles of southing; this latter must be due, we think, to an error in our previous dead reckoning, as we hadn’t had the sun for two days, and the currents here are often strong. A line drawn from yesterday’s alleged noon position to that of to-day passes directly over the reputed Reed Rocks; but as we are by no means sure of yesterday’s work, we cannot on that account positively deny their existence. They were first reported about fifty years ago by one Reed, an American mariner; but as the British admiralty charts do not acknowledge the presence of the rocks, and as our own charts have D marked beneath them, meaning doubtful, it is probable that, if they ever did exist, they have now disappeared.

It is worthy of mention that the total cost of running and maintaining a ship like the “Hosea Higgins” for one year amounts to an average of twenty-five thousand dollars. In New York alone the bills that Captain Scruggs had to pay before we went to sea amounted to almost fifteen thousand dollars, though this was a somewhat excessive amount, owing to the putting in of a new bowsprit and fore lower mast, which, with the rigger’s bill, footed up a total of two thousand dollars. Here is a list of the accounts rendered: Riggers, stores, stevedore, foremast, blacksmith, wharfage, advance to men, ship-chandler, sail-maker, tow-boat, pilot, shipwright, tonnage dues, butcher (fresh meat).

In San Francisco there will be an equally heavy account, as a new mizzen lower mast will be shipped there; and when the “Higgins” arrives back at New York she will have to be thoroughly overhauled and repaired, being of the age of fifteen years. Wooden vessels are classed A 1 for that period and no longer without a complete renovation, and she is then reclassed; iron vessels are rated A 1 for a much longer period. The list of firms above enumerated would not be complete, however, without mentioning the cooper’s bill. This is sometimes quite large for repairs made to cases, barrels, etc., on account of damage sustained while loading, at sea, or discharging. Goods must always be delivered in first-rate condition. Yet, in spite of the heavy running expenses, this ship averages fifteen and sixteen per cent. profit; and there is one very large iron four-masted ship, belonging to the keenest ship-owner in New York, which regularly pays a twenty per cent. annual dividend. Nearly all American sailing ships pay well; but the greatest profits that I know of in late years have been made by a British eleven-knot tramp steamer, whose name I cannot remember. This vessel for the last four years has paid the owners an average annual profit of thirty-four per cent. Much of this is, of course, due to the vessel’s happening to strike the various markets at exactly the right time, though there must be a good, sharp business head to the concern to achieve such an astonishing result. It is said, however, that the majority of British sailing ships are not good money-makers. Latitude, 37° 12′ north; longitude, 136° 15′ west.

+September 14+

A magnificent breeze that has driven us along at nearly nine knots has blown steadily from the north-northeast for twenty-four hours, giving us an easterly course by compass. But, alas! the point and a half of variation and another half-point of leeway force us to steer about east-southeast true. We made a whole degree of southing in consequence, and are now ninety miles south of ’Frisco Heads. If we have to tack ship it will be a piece of outrageous luck; and if the ship doesn’t come up three points by noon to-morrow, that’s just what we will have to do.

Last Sunday, as I was talking to some of the men forward, Broadhead spoke of the Yellowstone Park, and he chanced to mention that a friend of his had spent his honeymoon in that delectable locality, adding that, of course, everything looked particularly rosy even for the Yellowstone. Conversation then changed, when all at once I found the eyes of Jimmie Rumps fixed upon me, and a moment later he said, wistfully and earnestly, “I should think it must be just grand to go on a honeymoon.” Rumps, it might be added, would make an excellent cabin-boy on a yacht; but as bosun of a large ship, it would be difficult to find one more thoroughly incompetent than he is. There are at least a dozen of the men before the mast who are far better sailors than he, and seamanship is a _sine qua non_ in a bosun as well as in a second mate.

Another speech of one of the men afforded us a little amusement this forenoon. As my wife stepped to the binnacle to learn the course, the old man having just gone below with his sextant, Paddy, the merry, humorous young Irishman, was steering; but instead of his usual jolly smile, his face indicated the most extreme dejection. So, to cheer him up, my wife nodded to him and remarked, “We’ll soon be in, Paddy.” “Yes, mum, I know,” he replied, “but I got gum-boils now”; to show that variety had been vouchsafed him in his afflictions, as he has only just recovered from the worst sea-boils in the ship.

It may not be very widely known that in the United States there are several competent women ship-mistresses, as I suppose they ought to be called. I don’t mean women who understand more or less about the handling of vessels, but those who are entirely capable and have received their certificates for steamers from the government. The first woman to pass the examination in this country was a Mrs. George Miller, of New Orleans, and it was the late Justice Folger, at the time Secretary of the Treasury, who, after mature deliberation, decided that a woman could legally, if she passed the severe examination necessary to command a steam-vessel, assume the responsible position of captain. Since then several women in the United States have obtained master’s licenses and have demonstrated their ability to handle steamers; but the woman-captain of a square-rigger has not yet appeared on the horizon, though many long-voyage captains’ wives are almost, if not quite, as capable navigators and seamen as their husbands.

The British Board of Trade, however, has positively refused to allow a member of the gentler sex to appear before it for examination. A test case recently came up when the daughter of an English marquess applied to that institution for master’s papers. This lady pointed out that she simply desired to command her own yacht, which she was quite capable of doing, and did not wish to have anything to do with any other vessel; but the Board of Trade’s answer to her application was that it would not permit a woman to be examined for a master’s certificate, as the word master implicitly specified that men alone were eligible. Shortly afterward the marquess’s daughter married an Irish merchant captain, and at the present time is no doubt ably assisting her husband in the navigation of the splendid ship which he has the good fortune to command. Latitude, 36° 21′ north; longitude, 132° 30′ west.

+September 15+

This is the second of my wife’s birthdays that we have passed at sea, as three years ago we celebrated one in the “Mandalore” in 37° south, 16° east; and to commemorate this occasion we have had very strong northerly winds, with heavy puffs, a clear sky, and a rough but magnificent sea, with the ship bounding through it under the maintop-gallant-sail, bursting the spray high up to windward in drenching showers as she shoulders her way through the great creaming billows. How superb and proud they look, their snow-white, downy crests standing pompously forth against the azure sky, with intervening valleys of that wonderful blue which imparts such a fascination to the scene! We love nothing better than to pick out a particularly tall sea when it is still a quarter of a mile away on the bow. On it comes, as resistless as time; now hidden as the ship drops into a hollow, now soaring above its fellows as some grand, snowy peak towers over its pine-clad neighbors. Nearer and yet nearer it approaches, challenging combat as it comes, the vessel half advancing to meet it. And now it is right alongside, and hangs menacingly thirty feet above the ship, and the spray scattered from its glistening summit flies overhead in a swirling cloud, and a rainbow spans for an instant the streaming decks. It seems impossible that the vessel can clear the swift rush of the great billow; but just as it gathers itself for the assault the ship, with a heavy lurch to leeward, presents a high, copper-sheathed wall to the seething flood, and before you know it you have passed the crest of the huge wave and are sliding smoothly and noiselessly into the quiet valley beyond.

We have just cause for rejoicing, too, for the ship has come up two whole points since midnight, and we are now steering east-northeast by compass; two more points to the northward and we can fetch to windward of the Farallones. The captain seems wonderfully positive that we will fetch in all right, and when he expresses himself so surely, which he seldom does, we always feel pretty certain of the chances being in our favor.

I haven’t mentioned Mr. Rarx for some time. He has not been doing at all well, eats hardly six ounces of food a day, and he has withered away to a wraith of his former self; an idea of this may be gained from the captain’s estimate that he has lost at least forty pounds. The impression grows that Louis will be cleared in court, this opinion being held even by the skipper, for the men say that the second mate knocked Karl down with a maul besides the block, and there are three others who can bring damaging evidence against Mr. Rarx. But I am very much afraid that the mellifluous voices of the crimps when they swarm aboard in San Francisco harbor will exercise a somewhat different influence upon their opinions. I should like to see a ship-master with the courage to prevent the entrance of these crimps into his vessel; but if he did so and had them all kicked over the side into the harbor, as they ought to be, what a time this ship-master would have getting a crew together when he was next ready for sea! For not a boarding-master in the city would let him have a man.

If sailors would only hold together when they get ashore and testify against the bad treatment that they get at sea, nine-tenths of the villains who officer our deep-water-men would now be contemplating existence behind grated windows. If we had any doubts as to this particular ship’s being worse in its treatment of the men than the average Yankee, they were further dispelled by a remark of Jack Nickalls, an unobtrusive little sailor, and a good one: “This ship’s a peach compared to them wot I’ve been in.” Louis is fairly cheerful and conducts himself remarkably well. Latitude 36° 1′ north; longitude, 128° 20′ west.

+September 16+

To our very great astonishment, the wind increased very rapidly yesterday afternoon, and by three o’clock it was blowing a strong gale from the northward, with a cloudless sky. Several exciting incidents marked the day, the first of which occurred at the above hour. I had just gone on deck when suddenly there was a most tremendous clatter forward, and in another second down fell the big maintop-mast stay-sail, hanging outboard so as to just touch the water, as, of course, it was blown to leeward by the gale. From beyond the head, which was that part that hung down, extended about six feet of the heavy iron wire stay which had parted, and there instantly began the most terrible slatting that I have ever heard or seen. It was nothing short of fearful. There was a heavy sea running, and as the ship would lay far over every few moments the wind would gather up the sail, blow it out horizontally to leeward, and then jerk it back and forth, up and down, seemingly in every direction at the same instant, with appalling fury, the iron wire dashing now against the main-backstays, now against the bulwarks, now full into the bunt of the main-sail, with a force that was awful and made you hold your breath as the weapon was flung against the backstays with the crack of a pistol. I have seen slatting before when the gear of large racing yachts carried away; but it was not to be spoken of in the same breath with that of to-day. It was as if the power of the universe was concentrated in the twisting, bounding, whirling stay-sail; and the sailors stood aghast, for it was certain death to approach.

The captain was asleep when the stay parted, but he was on deck in a few seconds, and instantly ordered the helm hard up, so as to get the ship before the wind and prevent further destruction, for the main-rigging couldn’t have stood the thrashing much longer. Slowly the ship paid off, but five minutes passed until she was running free before the big, smoking seas, for we had started nothing, but had simply put the helm up. Meanwhile the slashing continued, and at last the wire burst through the main-sail and made a gaping rent in the after-leech. How the whole lee side of the sail escaped is marvellous; but when we were dead before the wind four hands simultaneously seized the heaving sail, and by heroic work finally got it muzzled after fifteen minutes of most courageous efforts.

No sooner was it secured and the ship on her course again than the old man sung out, “Clew up the main-t’-ga’nt-s’l.” There was a rush to the clew-lines and halliards; but somebody slacked away something too quickly for the zephyr that was whispering aloft, for there came a crackling report, and the top-gallant-sail at once was transformed into canvas pennants. A varied assortment of profanity tinged the atmosphere for quite half an hour, as a new sail had to be bent, and no one who has not seen a sail shifted in a gale of wind can form any true idea of the hard labor entailed in the process. So, leaving the uninitiated to picture it as well as he can, I must go on to describe something that occurred which more nearly concerned ourselves.

My wife and I were in our room a few minutes later discussing the stay-sail business, when, without warning, there came a very great lurch, and then the booming of mighty waters smote our ears as a whooping sea fell thundering directly on the poop. For a moment we were speechless as the water rushed in our windows, in spite of this being the lee side, drenching every object in the room; but we were called to our senses mighty suddenly by the volume of water that came cascading down the companion-way and gushing inches deep into our room. But, alas! what could we do? Such a thing happens in a second, and by the time that we had slammed the door and shutters there was no more water to come in and the damage was wrought. Personally we did not suffer extensively, but the after-cabin was a rare sight. The skipper’s room was on the weather-side, and as the ship heeled far over to the sea, everything movable shot out into the cabin, and when we first saw it books, magazines, balls of twine, slippers, shoes, ocean directories, charts, dividers, rulers, cigars, and an incredible number of old San Franciscan newspapers, every letter of which we have read, including the advertisements, were washing about in half a foot of brine. An idea of the volume of water may be gained when it is said that the steward and Sammie were an hour and a half in baling it out with buckets. Fortunately, the weather windows were protected by the solid wooden shutters which had just been closed; but the companion door had been left open, and this did nearly all the damage. Not even when the forward skylight was stove off the river Plate was there so much water below, and it was really an alarming thing to see so much ocean flowing down the companion-stairs.

But all these little inconveniences were as nothing when compared with the fact that the gale delayed us seriously and that the sea kept knocking us off, though the wind was steady at north-northwest; so that, in spite of it, we did not make good a better course than east by north and went through the water very slowly, as we had to hold her well up to make even one point of northing.

By ten this +A.M.+, however, the wind had so moderated that the top-gallant-sails were set, but we began then to break off to the southward of east, and at one o’clock we wore ship and are now on the starboard tack, heading up northwest by north. The point to be avoided at all hazards is not to fall off to the southward any more; never mind going back into the Pacific a little if you can make some northing. Our destination is distant only a hundred and fifty miles, and the captain has until Saturday to save his record of one hundred and thirty days. Latitude, 36° 28′ north; longitude, 125° 30′ west.

+September 17+

Instead of being now within sight of the coast, lo! we are becalmed within twenty miles of where we were at noon yesterday. It is difficult to imagine anything more exasperating than to lie idly upon the surface of a glassy ocean, only a little more than a hundred miles from the port for which you have been striving for four months. I wouldn’t care if the voyage were to be several weeks longer, but it is trying for all hands to thus lie becalmed so near the haven. Off the Hooghly, we were similarly tortured with light winds for several days.

When we went on deck this morning the weather was such that we might well have conceived ourselves down between the Trades, for we apparently floated in oil, and the big squares of canvas depended in writhing folds from the lofty yards. Not even the smallest clouds spattered the blue heavens, but a thin haze covered the sea and rose above the horizon some fifteen degrees or so, a semi-transparent curtain of a deep orange, beautiful to behold, but of ill omen, as it was highly improbable that anything worthy the name of breeze would come from anywhere with such conditions.

Astern, among the dark, spiral water-funnels floated half a dozen gunies, and we thought that perhaps we could capture one; therefore the skipper rigged a small hook baited with bacon-rind to a thin line and dropped it overboard. In a few minutes one took the bait; and, giving the line a jerk, he hooked the creature in the upper part of the bill and hauled him through the water and up over the stern. This bird made but little resistance, and formed a strong contrast to the fierce struggles of an albatross under similar conditions. When finally deposited upon the deck, he seemed to be about the size of a swan as to body, but his wings were very long, the alar extent being eight feet, or only three or four feet less than an average albatross. Like the latter, a guny can inflict a very severe wound with his bill, and it is necessary to have a care for your calves as you pass by. We endeavored to take some photographs of the big bird, but he would insist upon continual motion, and finally the wretched beast cast up the contents of his stomach on the deck, after the manner of all sea-fowl. Then the captain brought up the Maltese cat, who entertains a very lofty opinion of itself and who is in the habit of valiantly putting the chickens to flight; he was apparently stunned, though, when confronted with the great bird, and when the latter opened a beak in which the whole of Tommie’s head might have rested, his tail thickened and he sped him away. As it was useless then to keep the guny any longer on board, the skipper grasped him dexterously by the tip of one wing and threw him over the side; whereupon catching himself before he touched the water, he flew off with a joyous scream to rejoin his comrades, and no doubt relate to them his wonderful adventures. Latitude, 36° 35′ north; longitude, 125° 50′ west.

+September 18+

Becalmed, sixty-five miles from the Farallones! It is a dismal fact that although we had a light, fair wind all last night, it let go at nine this morning, and since then we have been weltering in a light swell from the northward, with the sea at times like blue ice. Such a dead calm was it that my wife and I played cards the greater part of the morning on deck. At 7 +A.M.+ the haze that shrouded the sea commenced to melt under the hot sun, and two ships were disclosed to our vision, one to port, the other to starboard. The former was a three-master of about two thousand tons, while the other was a very large, full-rigged, four-masted ship--that is, square-rigged on all the masts--of fully twenty-eight hundred tons. Both were metal vessels, and made a fine picture as they gracefully topped the easy swell. They were bound to the southward, and therefore have all their troubles before them.

The poor old man has broken his record, and we feel very sorry for him; and, indeed, it is a very fine thing for a captain to be able to say that never, upon any voyage, in any part of the world, has he been more than one hundred and thirty days at sea. He takes this voyage very philosophically, which is a remarkable fact, and says that no matter how fine a man’s record may be, it’s only necessary to keep on and it will at last be broken. I divided up some articles of old clothes among the men this afternoon, and their pleasure as they drew lots for the various pieces, which they made no attempt to conceal, was delightful to see. We, ourselves, are all packed up ready to go ashore whenever the wind will allow us; it is very satisfactory to get this done, for we always travel with an altogether unnecessary quantity of impedimenta, and it is a matter of considerable skill to compress all the things into two or three trunks.

While we were looking at the smaller of those two ships this morning the captain said that she looked like the British ship “Eurydice,” the present holder of the record passage across the North Pacific, she having made the voyage from Yokohama to Port Townsend in the wonderfully fast time of nineteen days. With this voyage compare those of two other British square-riggers, the “Clan Macfarlane” and the “Matterhorn”; neither is a slow ship, yet the former was one hundred and one days sailing from Hong-Kong to San Francisco, and the latter one hundred and fourteen between the same ports.

The captain is beginning to wonder how difficult it is going to be for him to get a crew in ’Frisco when he is ready for sea again; he is worrying a good deal over it, for when we sailed from New York sailors were so scarce in San Francisco that the big ships “Forfarshire” and “Kensington” went to sea with crews half of which were ranch hands, who had been rounded up by the crimps. Latitude, 37° 11′ north; longitude, 124° 12′ west.

+September 19+

At half-past six this morning there was a great rapping and thumping on our door, and Captain Scruggs cried, “If you want to see the Faralleeones you’d better come on deck.” Ten minutes later we emerged from the companion-way, but at first could see nothing at all for a chilly fog that lay upon the water, which had, during the night, changed to the muddy green of soundings. By dint of perseverance, though, we saw a large, dark mass loom gradually up until we could plainly discern the brown, sterile cones of the Farallones, which lie about twenty-five miles west of San Francisco Heads. Many persons have been puzzled to know why it is that the majority of the Pacific coast population pronounce the word as though it was spelled Fa-ra-lee-owns. The explanation of it seems to me to be a corruption of the Spanish pronunciation Fa-ralyo-nes, as, of course, the double l in that language has the sound of y. The same can be said of Mollendo, an important Peruvian port in 17° south; for Californians who are not especially erudite call the place Mol-ly-en-do, from the Spanish Mol-yen-do. It will be perceived how readily careless persons could fall into the way of putting an extra syllable in names which contain the double l, from hearing Mexicans and South Americans pronounce the words, which, of course, they do correctly.

As we had packed all of our valises, etc., the night before, there was nothing for us to do but to anticipate with pleasurable excitement the entrance into the Golden Gate, for the captain assured us that by eleven o’clock there wouldn’t be a vestige of fog left; this being a peculiarity of the coast climate. Sure enough, at ten the mists began to disperse and a bright glare overhead indicated an impending flood of sunshine.

At this moment we heard several sharp whistles ahead, and a tow-boat passed close to us in another minute, and then rounding to, ranged up alongside. How odd a sensation it is to see a new face again after an absence of four months from the retreats of men! Day after day, week after week, we have watched Mr. Goggins relieve Mr. Rarx, and Broadhead relieve Paddy, so steadily that we almost forgot that there was any one else in existence; and when we perceived the captain of the tug-boat standing in the pilot-house in a glistening “biled” shirt and store clothes and a polish on his brown shoes that quite dazzled us, we gazed upon him fascinated, for he was the biggest dude we had seen in nineteen weeks. And how uncouth the ship’s company looked when contrasted with even the tow-boat’s crew! However, we were soon brought to from our reveries by a large bundle of newspapers that the tug’s skipper hove on board; and who can depict the joy of that hour, during which we pored over the journals, marvelling at the commonplace allusions to momentous events which had been almost forgotten by the daily reader?

Presently we passed two ships bound up to Puget Sound,--the “Dashing Wave” and the “Yosemite” (old Neilsen, a Swede, said he used to sail in the “Jo-se-might”),--and then, the fog lifting suddenly and completely, we found ourselves only two miles from the Heads. “Get out an old ensign,” said the skipper to the mate, “and put it in the riggin’, union down.” “Hall right, sir,” answered that individual with much satisfaction, and in a few minutes an old torn flag, reversed, fluttered in the starboard mizzen-shrouds. It was of ominous meaning, for to a sailor it signified “police assistance wanted on board.” And then we remembered the Frenchman below, and wondered what his thoughts and anticipations must be, for of course he knew that a tow-boat had our line.

It was a quarter to noon when we entered the Golden Gate under a cloudless sky and caught our first glimpse of the world-famed harbor. A single word describes it,--magnificent. The entrance itself, where the ship moves on between wild, rugged hills that tower sheer out of the sea, is marked with an individual grandeur, and serves to prepare one for the splendid haven within; and when the ship finally glides beyond a certain headland and creeps slowly along in a perfect maze of great wooden and steel sailing ships, with the immense expanse of shining water ahead, the wonderful, perpendicular streets on the starboard hand, and the endless chain of lofty hills on the other, a sensation of pride tingles through you when you think that it is your “ain countrie” that boasts this great, matchless harbor.

Long before the anchorage was reached a handsome white steamer was seen approaching us, with a vertically striped flag in the stern. It was the revenue cutter; and, steaming alongside, four men at once stepped on board. The first was the customs inspector, and the others, a deputy United States marshal and two policemen. It was a dramatic scene. All of our men were huddled around the galley, with anxious looks toward the officers of the law, who immediately went into the cabin and held a long conversation in low tones with the captain. Then the deputy marshal stepped into the second mate’s room and talked with him five minutes in whispers, a blue-coat posting himself at each cabin door. A rattling of keys was heard in another moment, and then old Goggins, somewhat awed, but as pompous and ridiculous as a turkey, stumped down into the lazarette, and with much unnecessary clanking of chains Louis issued forth into daylight. He was as pale as ashes, for a sort of prison pallor was upon his usually dark cheeks, and he seemed on the point of breaking down when he saw the police. Then he looked all around imploringly, first at his shipmates near the galley, then at Captain Scruggs, and finally he caught sight of us, when he cast upon us a look so sad and beseeching that I will remember forever the sorrowful look in his eyes. Only for an instant did he stop, though; the officers stepped forward at a nod from the deputy, grasped the Frenchman, still manacled, by the collar, marched him quickly over to the port side, hustled him aboard the revenue boat, and in another instant Louis Jacquin, able seaman, of Dunquerque, disappeared from view and was on his way to show cause for an assault on the high seas upon Thomas Rarx, second mate of the clipper “Hosea Higgins.”

When the anchor had touched the bottom we stood by for the crimps. Even before we were aware of it the evil creatures began to swarm on board like a flock of sinister vultures, and without ceremony they fell upon their prey. They plied the men from bottles whose black nozzles protruded from their coat-pockets; and in a few minutes each had persuaded his man to go with him when they should get ashore. Poor fellows, once more in the clutches of the vampires, who, while not actually fostered by the government, yet are allowed to ply their abominable and iniquitous trade full in the face of the law. And I repeat, _the allotment or advance system of wages that now prevails, and which is the basis upon which the whole scheme of crimping is founded, must be abolished_. It is the duty of the Federal government to see to it that this is done.

At fifteen minutes past twelve there was a loud order from the captain, “Let go.” Then came the heavy, crushing splash, the fierce rush of the cable, the big four-thousand-pound anchor gripped the mud of San Francisco Bay, and our long voyage was a thing of the past. How many exciting moments we had had in those one hundred and thirty-one days! What varied phases of the ocean we had witnessed in the seventeen thousand four hundred miles we had sailed, from the snowy squalls and hissing seas of Cape Horn to the quiet breezes and calm surface of the equatorial seas!

Little time was given us for reflection, though, for the tug-boat skipper had agreed to put us ashore at the foot of Market Street, if we would “look alive.” So we threw our valises and shawl-straps to a deck-hand on the tug, shook Captain Scruggs’ hardy fist, and then turned to do the same with Mr. Goggins; but as this individual was invisible at the time, no doubt below in the fore-peak, we were obliged to forego that pleasure. And now there ensued a remarkable scene: as we went over the side we noticed that all the sailors were on the mainyard, unbending the sail, and as we stepped aboard the tow-boat I shouted, “Good-by, boys! Good luck to you all!” There was a moment’s silence, and then Broadhead, who was at the starboard yard-arm just over our heads, sung out, “Now, fellows, three times three for them”; and at once there broke out the most vociferous and lusty cheering that ever came from eighteen throats. The men seemed to get worked up as they shouted, and at last MacFoy and a dozen others fairly yelled and threw their caps on deck and waved their arms like madmen, so that their voices went ringing peal on peal over the broad harbor, bringing to the rail the officers and crews of the big Scotch ships “Aberfoyle,” “County of Linlithgow” and “Blairgowrie,” which lay hard by, to know what all this cheering meant on a Yankee just in from sea. It was a moment to bring a tear to your eye; and neither my wife nor I can ever forget these honest, big-hearted sailors as they appeared on that yard, shouting themselves hoarse. Why? Simply because we had bade them good-morning and good-night during the voyage and had shown that we understood and appreciated their hard and thankless labors. If ship-masters would realize that a single kind word or even look often exerts more influence over a crew than oaths and blows, what a difference there would be in the handling and navigating of our long-voyage sailing ships!

APPENDIX

A few days after our arrival at San Francisco, Louis Jacquin was brought for trial at that port before the United States Commissioner. He made an excellent defence; so good, indeed, that after due consideration of both sides of the case, the commissioner was compelled to discharge him, and Louis walked forth a free man. This was a just and most satisfactory termination of the matter, though I would have liked to see Rarx properly punished for his treatment of Karl _et al._ In truth, Karl, Brün and Pettersen did prefer charges against both mates, who were held for trial; but when the case came up no witnesses appeared against them, for the very good reason that the three men were shanghaied aboard a New York bound ship by the boarding masters, thus pursuing the usual course in such matters. Rarx recovered in a short time, and no doubt is at this moment stamping on some poor fellow whom he has beaten down with the ever-present belaying-pin.

While this book was in press, there arrived at San Francisco one of our most widely known Cape-Horners. The men related stories of unusually shocking cruelties on the part of the captain as well as the officers, and the second mate was held in five hundred dollars bonds. Two of the sailors testified, on separate occasions, to this incident: While wearing off the Horn one day, the second mate struck a sailor down with a capstan-bar and was kicking him heavily in the head, when the mate yelled from the poop, “That’s right, kick the life out of him”; to which the second mate replied, “I would kill him if we were only bound to Hong-Kong.”

Is this the way our consuls protect the lives of men under the flag? What is the matter with our Eastern consular service that men may be killed on our ships (as they have been), and the murderers go free upon landing at Chinese and Japanese ports? A delightful travesty, indeed, upon our exalted civilization.

THE END.

Transcriber’s Notes

Perceived typographical errors have been silently corrected.

Colloquial spelling in dialog has been retained as in the original.

Variations in use of hyphenation, compound words and quotation marks have been preserved.

Illustrations have been moved nearer to the text to which they refer.