The ship California, belonging to the same firm, had been nearly two years on the coast before she collected her full cargo of 40,000 hides.  Another vessel, the Lagoda, carrying 31,000 or 32,000, had been nearly two years getting her cargo; and when it appeared that we were to collect some 40,000 hides besides our own, which would be 12,000 or 15,000, the men became discontented.  It was bad for others, but worse for me, who did not mean to be a sailor for life.  Three or four years would make me a sailor in every respect, mind and habits as well as body, and would put all my companions so far ahead of me that college and a profession would be in vain to think of.

We were at the ends of the earth, in a country where there is neither law nor gospel, and where sailors are at their captain’s mercy.  We lost all interest in the voyage, cared nothing about the cargo, while we were only collecting for others, began to patch our clothes, and felt as though we were fixed beyond hope of change.

III.—­A Tyrannical Captain

Apart from the incessant labour on board ship, at San Pedro we had to roll heavy casks and barrels of goods up a steep hill, to unload the hides from the carts at the summit, reload these carts with our goods, cast the hides over the side of the hill, collect them, and take them on board.  After we had been employed in this manner for several days, the captain quarrelled with the cook, had a dispute with the mate, and turned his displeasure particularly against a large, heavy-moulded fellow called Sam.

The man hesitated in his speech, and was rather slow in his motions, but was a pretty good sailor, and always seemed to do his best.  But the captain found fault with everything he did.  One morning, when the gig had been ordered by the captain, Mr. Russell, an officer taken on at Santa Barbara, John the Swede, and I heard his voice raised in violent dispute with somebody.  Then came blows and scuffling.  Then we heard the captain’s voice down the hatchway.

“You see your condition!  Will you ever give me any more of your jaw?”

No answer; and then came wrestling and heaving, as though the man was trying to turn him.

“You may as well keep still, for I have got you!” said the captain, who repeated his question.

“I never gave you any,” said Sam, for it was his voice that we heard.

“That’s not what I ask you.  Will you ever be impudent to me again?”

“I never have been, sir,” said Sam.

“Answer my question, or I’ll make a spread-eagle of you!”

“I’m no negro slave!” said Sam.

“Then I’ll make you one!” said the captain; and he came, to the hatchway, sprang on deck, threw off his coat, and, rolling up his sleeves, called out to the mate, “Seize that man up, Mr. A—!  Seize him up!  Make a spread-eagle of him!  I’ll teach you all who is master aboard!”

The crew and officers followed the captain up the hatchway, and after repeated orders, the mate laid hold of Sam, who made no resistance, and carried him to the gangway.