nearing two bells--one o'clock--in the afternoon of a day
in the year 1895.

At the rise of the curtain there is a moment of intense silence.
Then the STEWARD enters and commences to clear the table of the
few dishes which still remain on it after the CAPTAIN'S dinner.
He is an old, grizzled man dressed in dungaree pants, a sweater,
and a woolen cap with ear-flaps. His manner is sullen and angry.
He stops stacking up the plates and casts a quick glance upward
at the skylight; then tiptoes over to the closed door in rear and
listens with his ear pressed to the crack. What he hears makes
his face darken and he mutters a furious curse. There is a noise
from the doorway on the right, and he darts back to the table.

BEN enters. He is an over-grown, gawky boy with a long, pinched
face. He is dressed in sweater, fur cap, etc. His teeth are
chattering with the cold and he hurries to the stove, where he
stands for a moment shivering, blowing on his hands, slapping
them against his sides, on the verge of crying.

THE STEWARD (_in relieved tones--seeing who it is_). Oh, 'tis you,
is it? What're ye shiverin' 'bout? Stay by the stove where ye
belong and ye'll find no need of chatterin'.

BEN. It's c-c-old. (_Trying to control his chattering
teeth--derisively_) Who d' ye think it were--the Old Man?

THE STEWARD. (_He makes a threatening move--BEN shrinks away._)
None o' your lip, young un, or I'll learn ye. (_More kindly_) Where
was it ye've been all o' the time--the fo'c's'le?

BEN. Yes.

THE STEWARD. Let the Old Man see ye up for'ard monkey-shinin'
with the handstand ye'll get a hidin' ye'll not forget in a
hurry.

BEN. Aw, he don't see nothin'. (_A trace of awe in his tones--he
glances upward._) He just walks up and down like he didn't notice
nobody--and stares at the ice to the no'th'ard.

THE STEWARD (_the same tone of awe creeping into his voice_). He's
always starin' at the ice. (_In a sudden rage, shaking his fist at
the skylight_) Ice, ice, ice! Damn him and damn the ice! Holdin'
us in for nigh on a year--nothin' to see but ice--stuck in it
like a fly in molasses!

BEN (_apprehensively_). Ssshh! He'll hear ye.

THE STEWARD (_raging_). Aye, damn him, and damn the Arctic seas,
and damn this stinkin' whalin' ship of his, and damn me for a
fool to ever ship on it! (_Subsiding, as if realizing the
uselessness of this outburst--shaking his head--slowly, with deep
conviction_) He's a hard man--as hard a man as eve