ring during the night will
sufficiently account for a long passage, and errors in navigation.
Dead reckoning is of little use when the courses and distances are not
correctly noted. In the daytime, Captain Moncrieff would sometimes steer
hours at a time, especially when I was employed in other business or
taking a nap below.

The most unpleasant duty I was expected to perform was that of cooking.
I had never been inducted into the mysteries of that art, and was
disgusted with its drudgeries. While in the Dolphin, with Captain
Turner, I tried my hand at cooking more than once, when the cook had
been so badly flogged as to be unable to perform his duties. But I
gained no laurels in that department. Indeed, dissatisfaction was
expressed in the forecastle and the cabin at the bungling and unartistic
style in which I prepared the food on those occasions. In the Young
Pilot I succeeded but little better; and the captain, who was something
of an epicure in his way, whenever a good cup of coffee was required for
breakfast, or a palatable dish for dinner, released me from my vocation
for the time, and installed himself in the camboose. And it would have
been amusing to a looker-on, to see the big, burly Scotchman steaming
over the fire and smoke, rattling the pans and kettles, and compounding
various materials, while I sat quietly at the helm, watching his
operations, and thanking my stars that I had no genius for cooking.

The greatest cause I had for disquiet on this passage was the want
of society. The captain and mate could spin their yarns and discuss
subjects of nautical philosophy; but the mate, naturally unsocial
and taciturn, seldom spoke to me, and the captain never honored me by
entering into familiar conversation, excepting when he had indulged in
an extra glass, and Mr. Campbell was not on deck. At such times, being
in a garrulous humor, he would, as a sort of "Hogson's choice," address
himself to me, and rattle off narratives of adventures of the most
astounding description.

The schooner was easily managed, being a small vessel of only thirty
tons burden. In ordinary weather, one man, without leaving his station
at the helm, could tack ship, gibe, and trim every sail. The schooner
was a good-sailing vessel in light winds; but her chief excellence
consisted in ability to beat to windward. When within four points of the
wind she progressed at the rate of six or seven knots with a moderate
breeze, while with a str