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  CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

  THE INCA AND HER CREW.

  On crossing the gangway, I stopped near the main-hatchway, where five orsix sailors were busy with a large pile of barrels and boxes. I sawthat they were lading the vessel, and with a tackle were lowering thebarrels and boxes into the hold. They were in their shirt-sleeves, somewith Guernsey frocks and wide canvas trousers, smeared with grease andtar. One among them wore a blue cloth jacket, with trousers of similarmaterial, and it occurred to me that he might be the mate; for I fanciedthat the captain of such a big ship must be a very grand individual, andvery superbly dressed.

  He with the blue jacket was constantly giving orders and directions tothe sailors at work, which I noticed were not always promptly obeyed;and frequently the men might be heard suggesting contrary modes ofaction, until a hubbub of voices would arise disputing about the properplan for executing the work.

  All this would have been different on board a man-of-war, where theorder of an officer is instantly obeyed without question or remark; buton a merchant vessel it is far otherwise. The orders of the mate areoften issued more as counsels than commands, and the men exercise a sortof discretion in obeying them. This is not always the case, and dependsvery much on the character of the mate himself; but on board the _Inca_the discipline did not appear to be of the strictest. What with theclatter of tongues, the "skreeking" of pulley-blocks, the rattling ofboxes against each other, the bundling of trucks over the staging, andother like sounds, there was more noise than I had ever heard in mylife. It quite disconcerted me at first; and I stood for some minutesin a state of half bewilderment at what I heard and saw.

  After a while there was a sort of lull. The great water-butt that thesailors had been lowering down the hatchway had reached the hold below,and been rolled into its place, and this produced a temporary cessationin the noises.

  Just then one of the sailors chanced to set his eyes upon me; and, afterregarding me with a comic leer, cried out--

  "Ho! my little marlin-spike! What might _you_ be wantin' aboard?--goin'to ship, eh?"

  "No," rejoined a second; "don't yer see he's a captain hisself?--got hisown craft there!"

  This remark was made in allusion to my schooner, which I had broughtalong with me, and was holding in my hands.

  "Schooner ahoy!" shouted a third of the men. "Whither bound?"

  This was followed by a burst of laughter from all hands, who were nowaware of my presence, and stood regarding me as though I was somethingextremely ludicrous in their eyes.

  I was rather abashed by this reception on the part of the rough tars,and remained for some moments without knowing what to say or do. But Iwas relieved from my uncertainty by the mate in the blue jacket, who,approaching me, asked, in a more serious tone, what was my businessaboard.

  I replied that I wanted to see the captain. Of course I believed thatthere was a captain, and that he was the proper person to whom I shouldaddress myself in regard to the business I had in view.

  "Want to see the captain!" echoed my interrogator. "And what might beyour business with him, youngster? I'm the mate: won't I do?"

  I hesitated a moment; but seeing that it was the captain'srepresentative who put the question, I thought there could be no harm infrankly declaring my intentions. I replied--"I wish to be a sailor!"

  If the men had laughed loud before, they now laughed louder. In factthere was a regular yell, in which the mate himself joined as heartilyas any of them.

  Amidst the peals of laughter, my ears were greeted with a variety ofexpressions that quite humiliated me.

  "Look yonder, Bill!" cried one, addressing a comrade who was at somedistance. "Look at the wee chap as wants to be a sailor. My eyes! Youlittle tuppence worth o' ha'pence, you ain't big enough for a belayin'pin! A see-a-lor! My eyes!"

  "Does your mother know yer out?" inquired a second.

  "No, that she don't," said a third, making reply for me; "nor hisfather, neyther. I'll warrant, now, the chap has run away from home.Have you gi'n 'em the slip, little sticklebat?"

  "Look here, youngster!" said the mate. "Take my advice: go back to yourmother, give my compliments to the old lady, and tell her to take a turnor two of her petticoat strings round you, belay them to the leg of achair, and keep you safe moored there for half a dozen years to come!"This advice elicited a fresh peal of laughter. I felt humiliated atthis rough bantering, and knew not what reply to make. In my confusionI stammered out the words--

  "I have no mother to go home to!"

  This reply appeared to produce a sudden effect upon the mirth of theserude-looking men, and I could hear some of them give utterance tocertain expressions of sympathy.

  Not so, however, the mate, who, without changing his tone of banter,instantly rejoined--

  "Well, then, go to your father, and tell _him_ to give you a goodflogging!"

  "I have no father!"

  "Poor little chap! it's a horphin arter all," said one of the tars, in akind tone.

  "No father either, you say," continued the mate, who appeared to me anunfeeling brute; "then go to your grandmother, or your uncle, or youraunt, if you've got one; or go anywhere you like, but get about yourbusiness from here, or I'll trice you up, and give you a round dozen onthe buttocks; be off now, I say!"

  The brute seemed fully in earnest; and, deeply mortified by the threat,I turned away in obedience to the command.

  I had reached the gangway, and was about to step upon the plank, when Iobserved a man coming in the opposite direction--from the shore. He wasdressed in the same style as a merchant or other citizen might havebeen, with a black frock-coat and beaver hat; but there was something inhis look that told me he belonged to the sea. The complexion of hisface was of that weather bronze, and there was an expression in the eyeswhich I knew to be characteristic of men who lead the life of themariner. Moreover, his trousers were of blue pilot-cloth, and that gavehim a sea-faring look. It struck me at the moment that he was thecaptain of the ship.

  I was not long in doubt. On reaching the gangway, the stranger steppedaboard with an air that betokened him the master; and I heard him issuesome orders in a tone that bespoke his full command of everybody withinhearing.

  He did not stop after going aboard, but walked on towards thequarter-deck of the vessel.

  It occurred to me that I might still have some chance by addressingmyself directly to him; and, without hesitation, I turned back andfollowed him.

  In spite of some remonstrance from the mate and one or two of the men, Ikept on till I had overtaken the captain just as he was about to divedown into his cabin.

  I arrested his attention by plucking the skirt of his coat.

  He turned round in some surprise, and inquired what I wanted with him.

  In as few words as I could manage it, I made known my wishes. The onlyreply he made me was a laugh; and then turning round, he cried out toone of the men--

  "Here, Waters! Hoist this urchin upon your shoulders, and set himashore. Ha! ha! ha!"

  Without saying another word, he stepped down the companion ladder, anddisappeared out of my sight.

  In the midst of my chagrin, I felt myself lifted in the strong arms of"Waters," who, after carrying me across the staging-plank, and someyards over the wharf, deposited me upon the pavement, and thus addressedme:--

  "Now, my little sprat! take Jack Waters's advice, and keep out o'salt-water as long as you can, else the sharks may get hold on you."

  And then, after a pause, during which he seemed to reflect aboutsomething, he inquired--

  "And you're a horphin, are ye, my little 'un? Got neyther father normother?"

  "Neither," I replied.

  "A pity it are! I was once a horphin myself. Well, yer a spunky littlechap to be wantin' to go to sea, and ye deserve somethin' for it. If Iwere captain I'd take you along; but ye see I'm only afore the mast, andkin do nothin' for ye; but I'll be back some day again, and maybe you'llbe bigger then. Here, take this anyhow
for a keepsake, and by it you'llremember me till sometime when you see me in port again, and who knowsbut then I may find a berth for you. So good-bye now! Go home again,like a good boy, and stay there till you've growed a bit."

  As the kind-hearted sailor said this, he handed me his knife, andturning away, walked back on board his ship, leaving me alone upon thewharf.

  Wondering at his unexpected kindness, I stood gazing after him till hedisappeared behind the bulwarks; and then, mechanically putting theknife in my pocket, I remained for a while without stirring from thespot.