We spent ten happy days in Honolulu, marred only by one or two drunken rows among the chaps forward, which, however, resulted in their getting a severe dressing down in the forecastle, where good order was now kept.  There had been no need for interference on the part of the officers, which I was glad to see, remembering what would have happened under such circumstances not long ago.  Being short-handed, the captain engaged a number of friendly islanders for a limited period, on the understanding that they were to be discharged at their native place, Vau Vau.  There were ten of them, fine stalwart fellows, able bodied and willing as possible.  They were cleanly in their habits, and devout members of the Wesleyan body, so that their behaviour was quite a reproach to some of our half-civilized crew.  Berths were found for them in the forecastle, and they took their places among us quite naturally, being fairly well used to a whale-ship.

*

CHAPTER XVIII

ON THE “LINE” GROUNDS

We weighed at last, one morning, with a beautiful breeze, and, bidding a long farewell to the lovely isles and their amiable inhabitants, stood at sea, bound for the “line” or equatorial grounds on our legitimate business of sperm whaling.  It was now a long while since we had been in contact with a cachalot, the last one having been killed by us on the Coast of Japan some six months before.  But we all looked forward to the coming campaign with considerable joy, for we were now a happy family, interested in the work, and, best of all, even if the time was still distant, we were, in a sense, homeward bound.  At any rate, we all chose so to think, from the circumstance that we were now working to the southward, towards Cape Horn, the rounding of which dreaded point would mark the final stage of our globe-encircling voyage.

We had, during our stay at Honolulu, obtained a couple of grand boats in addition to our stock, and were now in a position to man and lower five at once, if occasion should arise, still leaving sufficient crew on board to work the vessel.  The captain had also engaged an elderly seaman of his acquaintance—­out of pure philanthropy, as we all thought, since he was in a state of semi-starvation ashore—­to act as a kind of sailing-master, so as to relieve the captain of ship duty at whaling time, allowing him still to head his boat.  This was not altogether welcome news to me, for, much as I liked the old man and admired his pluck, I could not help dreading his utter recklessness when on a whale, which had so often led to a smash-up that might have been easily avoided.  Moreover, I reasoned that if he had been foolhardy before, he was likely to be much more so now, having no superior to look black or use language when a disaster occurred.  For now I was his harpooner, bound to take as many risks as he chose to incur, and anxious also to earn a reputation among the more seasoned whalemen for smartness sufficient to justify my promotion.