e seamen were even more ruffianly
than the specimens he had seen at the Waterman's Rest--the scum of
Wapping and Rotherhithe. His only real friend on board was Bulger, who
helped him to master the many details of a sailor's work, and often
protected him against the ill treatment of his mates; and, in spite of
his one arm, Bulger was a power to be reckoned with.

At the best of times the life of a sailor was hard, and Desmond found it
at first almost intolerable. Irregular sleep on an uncomfortable hammock,
wedged in with the other members of the crew, bad food, and over exertion
told upon his frame. From the moment when all hands were piped to lash
hammocks to the moment when the signal was given for turning in, it was
one long round of thankless drudgery. But he proved himself to be very
quick and nimble. Before long, no one could lash his hammock with the
seven turns in a shorter time than he. After learning the work on the
mainsails and trysails he was sent to practise the more acrobatic duties
in the tops, and when two months had passed, no one excelled him in
quickness aloft.

If his work had been confined to the ordinary seaman's duties he would
have been fairly content, for there is always a certain pleasure in
accomplishment, and the consciousness of growing skill and power was some
compensation for the hardships he had to undergo. But he had to do dirty
work for the cook, clean out the styes of the captain's pigs, swab the
lower deck, sometimes descend on errands for one or other to the nauseous
hold.

Perhaps the badness of the food was the worst evil to a boy accustomed to
plain but good country fare. The burgoo or oatmeal gruel served at
breakfast made him sick; he knew how it had been made in the cook's dirty
pans. The "Irish horse" and salt pork for dinner soon became distasteful;
it was not in the best condition when brought aboard, and before long it
became putrid. The strong cheese for supper was even more horrible. He
lived for the most part on the tough sea biscuit of mixed wheat and pea
flour, and on the occasional duffs of flour boiled with fat, which did
duty as pudding. For drink he had nothing but small beer; the water in
the wooden casks was full of green, grassy, slimy things. But the fresh
sea air seemed to be a food itself; and though Desmond became lean and
hollow cheeked, his muscles developed and hardened. Little deserving
Captain Barker's ill-tempered abuse, he became handy in many wa