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I LEFT ON THE ISLAND. Once more we were upon the ocean, the tall finger-like peaks of the beautiful Mauritius fading from our sight. Captain Gunnel was as pleasant and kind in his manner as could be desired, the first mate as glum and surly as usual. It was curious to observe the sagacious manner in which Solon avoided him, as if perfectly well aware that if he got in his way a kick or a rope's end would be his inevitable portion. For three or four days things went on somewhat quietly; we had fair winds and fine weather, and there was nothing to put any one out. Before long, however, some trifle caused the first mate to lose his temper, and he began ill-treating the men as before. He seemed inclined especially to vent his rage against Johnny Spratt. The fat old fellow used to rub his sides, and, as usual, as he limped away from his tyrant, say, "Well, it's fortunate the bones are so thickly cased, or they'd have been broken every one on 'em before now." He never made a reply to all the abuse showered on him; but this silence, instead of appeasing the mate's anger, only seemed to increase it. Poor Tommy Bigg, too, got more knocked about than ever. My blood used to boil as I saw the poor friendless little fellow kicked, and cuffed, and rope's-ended without mercy, day after day, and more than once I felt inclined to rush to his rescue, and to tell his tyrants what cruel brutes they were. In vain Mr Henley expostulated with Mr Grimes. He got only abused in return. "Wait till you are kicked yourself and then cry out," was the answer. Mr Henley could make no reply to this remark, but walked quietly away. He took good care, however, that while he was on dock none of his inferiors should bully anybody; and I, to the best of my power, assisted him. I soon found that I had made mortal enemies of Sills and Broom, who had never liked me. Several times I reported them to Mr Henley for striking the men and using foul language towards them. They called me a sneak and a tell-tale, and said that I was fitter for a nursery or a girls' boarding school than to come to sea. I said that I saw nothing sneaking in preventing men from being ill-treated, and reminded them of a proverb I had met with, "That curses, like pigeons, are sure to come home to roost at night." "Hang your proverbs--what do you mean?" exclaimed Broom. "That curses are sure to recoil on the heads of those who utter them," I answered. "I earnest
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