If a man can understand the language you use, he can sometimes be made to pay attention if he has the right kind of men over him, but when he cannot understand and goes to sea with the certain knowledge he is on a hard ship and will probably come to blows in a few minutes, he must have some ocular demonstration of what is coming if he doesn’t jump when a mate sings out to him.  Often the safety of the entire ship depends upon the quickness with which an order can be carried out, and a man must not hang back when the danger is deadly.  He must do as he is told, instantly and without question; if he gets killed—­why, there is no great loss, for any owner or skipper can get a crew aboard at any of the large ports of trade.  Of course, if he takes a different point of view, the only thing for him to do is to stay on the beach.  He must not ship on a sailing packet that is carrying twenty percent more freight than the law allows and is getting from three to four dollars a ton for carrying it some ten or fifteen thousand miles over every kind of ocean between the frigid zones.  My men were surly enough, perhaps because they had heard what kind of treatment they should expect; so after I had told them what they must do, I bade them go below and straighten out their dunnage.

Mr. Trunnell, after separating his men from mine, cursed them individually and collectively as everything he could think of, and only stopped to scratch his big bushy head to figure out some new condemnations.  While doing this he saw me coming from the port side, and forthwith he told me to take charge of the ship, as he was dead beat out and would have to soak his head again before coming on watch.  He smelled horribly of stale liquor, and his eyes were bloodshot.  I thought he would be just as well off below, so I made no protest against taking command.

“Ye see, I never am used to it,” he said, with a grin.  “I can’t drink nothin’.  Stave me, Rollins, but the first thing I’ll be running foul of some of these Dagos, and I don’t want a fracas until I see the lay of the old man.  He’s a queer one for sure, hey?  Did you ever see a skipper with such a look?  Sech bleeding eyes—­an’ nose, hey?  Like the beak of an old albatross.  He hasn’t come out to lay the course yet, but let her go.  She’ll head within half a point of what she’s doin’ now.  Sink me, but I don’t believe there’s three bloomin’ beggars in my watch as can steer the craft, and she’s got a new wheel gear on her too.  Call me if the old man comes on deck.”  As he finished he staggered into the door of the forward cabin and made for his room, leaving me in command.

I went aft and saw the lubber’s mark holding on west by south, and after being satisfied that the man steering could tell port from starboard, I climbed the steps to the poop and took a good look around.  It was a beautiful morning and the sun shone brightly over our quarter-rail.  The land behind us stood boldly outlined against the sky, and the lumpy clouds above were rosy with sunlight.