accordingly.  I had hardly reached the deck when I was confronted by a negro, the biggest I ever saw in, my life.  He looked me up and down for a moment, then opening his ebony features in a wide smile, he said, “Great snakes! why, here’s a sailor man for sure!  Guess thet’s so, ain’t it, Johnny?” I said “yes” very curtly, for I hardly liked his patronizing air; but he snapped me up short with “yes, sir, when yew speak to me, yew blank lime-juicer.  I’se de fourf mate ob dis yar ship, en my name’s Mistah Jones, ’n yew, jest freeze on to dat ar, ef yew want ter lib long’n die happy.  See, sonny.”  I saw, and answered promptly, “I beg your pardon, sir, I didn’t know.”  “Ob cawse yew didn’t know, dat’s all right, little Britisher; naow jest skip aloft ’n loose dat fore-taupsle.”  “Aye, aye, sir,” I answered cheerily, springing at once into the fore-rigging and up the ratlines like a monkey, but not too fast to hear him chuckle, “Dat’s a smart kiddy, I bet.”  I had the big sail loose in double quick time, and sung out “All gone, the fore-taupsle,” before any of the other sails were adrift.  “Loose the to-gantsle and staysles” came up from below in a voice like thunder, and I bounded up higher to my task.  On deck I could see a crowd at the windlass heaving up anchor.  I said to myself, “They don’t waste any time getting this packet away.”  Evidently they were not anxious to test any of the crew’s swimming powers.  They were wise, for had she remained at anchor that night I verily believe some of the poor wretches would have tried to escape.

The anchor came aweigh, the sails were sheeted home, and I returned on deck to find the ship gathering way for the heads, fairly started on her long voyage.

What a bear-garden the deck was, to be sure!  The black portion of the crew—­Portuguese natives from the Western and Canary Islands—­were doing their work all right in a clumsy fashion; but the farmers, and bakers, and draymen were being driven about mercilessly amid a perfect hurricane of profanity and blows.  And right here I must say that, accustomed as I had always been to bad language all my life, what I now heard was a revelation to me.  I would not, if I could, attempt to give a sample of it, but it must be understood that it was incessant throughout the voyage.  No order could be given without it, under the impression, apparently, that the more curses the more speed.

Before nightfall we were fairly out to sea, and the ceremony of dividing the crew into watches was gone through.  I found myself in the chief mate’s or “port” watch (they called it “larboard,” a term I had never heard used before, it having long been obsolete in merchant ships), though the huge negro fourth mate seemed none too well pleased that I was not under his command, his being the starboard watch under the second mate.