then, we
had to scrub and wash clothes. On two occasions we took longer trips,
first to Dartmouth, and then to Portsmouth. Fearful was the weather
we experienced sailing to the latter port--fearful, I mean, to my
boyish experience, though I must say that even an old salt was heard
to pronounce it "a very stormy voyage."

I met with an accident on board the 'Pilot.' One night whilst at
anchor I was ordered to row the dinghy ashore. It was very wet and
dark, and in the act of climbing down the painter which attached the
boat to the boom, it was so slippery that I lost my grip and fell.
My shoeless feet came in contact with the boat's crutch (an
instrument with two arms into which the oar fits); my right foot bled
profusely, as one of these arms had pierced the flesh deeply. I
managed to get on board to the sick berth, and after the steward's
treatment it ceased bleeding. Whilst in the act of lashing up my
hammock the next morning I fell to the deck, so weak had I become by
the loss of so much blood on the previous night.

The discipline on board this brig, as on the 'Impregnable,' was rigid
in the extreme. On the upper deck at drill time would stand the
ship's corporal with his cane, and woe betide any boy who was not
putting his weight on the rope, or who was not doubling along the
deck. It may be of interest to remark here, that neither in the
'Impregnable' nor the 'Pilot' did I know the queer experience of
being lashed to the horse. This was due not so much because I did not
deserve it, as that I was fortunate enough to escape detection. To
appreciate the above remark the reader must realise the trivial
offences for which a poor boy is caned, and in the light of this
reflection he will wonder that any sailor boy should be a stranger to
the cane during his training.

Through all my naval career I was a sufferer to sea-sickness, which
began on this brig. No sooner had we passed the Plymouth Breakwater
Lighthouse, when the brig would begin rolling, and I would repair to
the lee-scupper. In connection with this part of my story I must not
omit to say a kind word for the captain. When many of us poor boys
lay strewn along the deck like stricken sheep, he, in passing from
the forecastle to poop, would not disturb us. This in itself may not
appear much, but in reality it was a great kindness, and one over
which I love to ponder. It was the act of a gentleman, to say the
least of it, and I cannot but believe that sympathy