men
together and turned a hose into the fo'cas'le. The thin, vicious
stream proved too much for the mutineers, and we were soon in
possession again. John was taken up from the fore-peak (he was far
through) and carried aft. The mutineers, such as were fit, were put
down below to dig coals till they could dig no more; and again the work
went on--weary, body-racking work.

With aching eyes and every muscle in revolt, we toiled on in silence,
not even a curse among us. Silence, broken only by the rattle of the
block-sheave, as the baskets of coal were hove up and emptied. There
was now no need for the Old Man to hold himself in readiness, with
something in his pocket that bulged prominently, for there was not an
ounce of fight left in the crowd, and 'Smith and Wessons' are
ill-fitting things to carry about. Two hours we had of this, and give
in was very near when the welcome news came up that they had got at the
sluice, that the water was trickling through. Soon after, the sluice
was prised up, and the pent-up water rushed into the peak. The
Firemaster passed his pipe below, and again the pumps were set agoing.

We staggered out into the fresh morning air, red-eyed and ragged, and a
madhouse gang we looked in the half-light of an early Californian dawn.
Faces haggard and blackened by the smoke, eyes dazed and bloodshot, and
on nearly everyone evidence of the ten minutes' sanguinary encounter in
bruised eyes and bloody faces. The Mate called a muster to serve out
grog, and of our crew of twenty-seven hands only fifteen answered the
call. The Old Man tried to make a few remarks to the men. He had been
frequently to the bottle through the night, for his speech was thick
and his periods uncertain.

"No bloody nozzush, b' Goad ... tan' no nozzush, Mis'r----" was about
the burden of his lay.

With a modest glass of strong rum to raise our spirits momentarily, we
lingered before going below to note the wreck and confusion that our
once trim barque was now in. She was still down by the head, and
listed at an awkward angle. The decks were littered with gear and
stores, muddy and dirty as a city street on a day of rain. Aloft, the
ill-furled tops'ls hung bunched below the yards, with lazy gaskets
streaming idly in mid-air; and the yards, 'lifted' at all angles, gave
a lubberly touch to our distressed appearance. The riding-light, still
burning brightly on the forestay, though the sun was now above the
horizon, s