; carpenter a Mecklenburger joiner (who, when told to repair the
fore-scuttle, which had been damaged by a heavy sea, did not know where
it was situated), the sailmaker a German, and of the twelve A.B.'s and
O.S.'s only one--a man of sixty-five years of age, was a Britisher; the
rest were of all nationalities. Three of them were Scandinavians and
were good sailor-men, the others were almost useless, and only fit to
scrub paint-work, and hardly one could be trusted at the wheel. The cook
was a Martinique nigger, and was not only a good cook, but a thorough
seaman, and he had the utmost contempt for what he called "dem mongrels
for'ard," especially those who were Dagoes. The captain and officers
certainly had reason to knock the crew about, for during an electrical
storm one night the ship was visited by St. Elmo's fire, and the Dagoes
to a man refused duty, and would not go aloft, being terrified out
of their wits at the dazzling globes of fire running along the yards,
hissing and dancing, and illuminating the ocean for miles. They bolted
below, rigged up an altar and cross with some stump ends of candles, and
began to pray. Exasperated beyond endurance, the captain, officers, two
Norwegians, the nigger cook and I, after having shortened canvas, "went"
for them, knocked the religious paraphernalia to smithereens, and drove
them on deck.

The nigger cook was really a devout Roman Catholic, but his seaman's
soul revolted at their cowardice, and he so far lost his temper as to
seize a Portuguese by his black curly hair, throw him down, tear open
his shirt, and seize a leaden effigy of St. Jago do Compostella, which
he wore round his neck, and thrust it into his mouth. In after years
I saw Captain "Bully" Hayes do the same thing, also with a Portuguese
sailor; but Hayes made the man actually swallow the little image--after
he had rolled it into a rough ball--saying that if St James was so
efficient to externally protect the wearer from dangers of the sea, that
he could do it still better in the stomach, where he (the saint) would
feel much warmer.

The barque, a month or so after I left her in Noumea, sailed from T'chio
in New Caledonia, and was never heard of again. She was overmasted, and
I have no doubt but that she capsized, and every one on board perished.
Had she been manned by English sailors, she would have reached her
destination in safety, for the captain and officers knew her faults and
that she was a tricky ship