The captain was on board
all day Friday, and everything went on hard and disagreeably. "The
more you drive a man, the less he will do," was as true with us as
with any other people. We worked late Friday night, and were turned-to
early Saturday morning. About ten o'clock the captain ordered our
new officer, Russell, who by this time had become thoroughly
disliked by all the crew, to get the gig ready to take him ashore.
John, the Swede, was sitting in the boat alongside, and Russell and
myself were standing by the main hatchway, waiting for the captain,
who was down in the hold, where the crew were at work, when we heard
his voice raised in violent dispute with somebody, whether it was with
the mate, or one of the crew, I could not tell; and then came blows
and scuffling. I ran to the side and beckoned to John, who came up,
and we leaned down the hatchway; and though we could see no one, yet
we knew that the captain had the advantage, for his voice was loud and
clear--
"You see your condition! You see your condition! Will you ever
give me any more of your jaw?" No answer; and then came wrestling
and heaving, as though the man was trying to turn him.
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