n't never bin aloft
afore. We says as 'ow--with all doo respeck, Captin--we wants yer t'
put back t' port for a crew wot can take th' bloomin' packet round the
'Orn, Sir!"

Martin stepped back, having fired his shot, and he carefully arranged a
position among his mates, so that he was neither in front of the 'men'
or behind, where Houston and the cook and the 'rancheros' stood.

The Old Man leaned over the poop-rail and looked at the men
collectively, with great admiration. He singled out no man for
particular regard, but just admired them all, as one looks at soldiers
on parade. He moved across the poop to see them at a side angle; the
hands became hotly uncomfortable.

"What's this I hear, men? What's this I hear?"

("As fine a crowd o' men as ever I shipped, Mister," a very audible
aside to the Mate.) "What's this I hear? D'ye mean t' tell me that
ye're afraid t' be homeward bound in a well-found ship, just because
we're three hands short of a big 'crowd'?"

"Wot 'bout them wot ain't never been aloft afore," muttered Martin,
though in a somewhat subdued voice.

"What about them?" said the Old Man. "What about them? Why, a month
in fo'cas'le alongside such fine seamen as I see before me" (here he
singled out Welsh John and some of the old hands for a pleasant smile),
"alongside men that know their work." (Welsh John and the others
straightened themselves up and looked away to the horizon, as if the
outcome of the affair were a matter of utter indifference to them.)
"D'ye tell me a month alongside men that have sailed with me before
won't make sailors of them, eh? _Tchutt_, I know different....
Sailors they'll be before we reach the Horn." (Here one of the
potential 'sailors' ran to the ship's side, intent on an affair of his
own.)

The men turned to one another, sheepish.

"Ye know well enough we can't get men, even if we did put back to
port," continued the Old Man. "They're no' t' be had! Ye'll have to
do yer best, and I'll see" (a sly wink to the Mate) "that ye ain't put
on. Steward!"

He gave an order that brought a grin of expectation to the faces of all
''ans,' and the affair ended.

A wily one was our Old Jock!

The Mate was indignant at so much talk.... "A 'clip' under the ear for
that Martin," he said, "would have settled it without all that
palaver"; and then he went on to tell the Old Man what happened when he
was in the New Bedford whalers.

"Aye, aye, man! Aye, aye," said