Here we
found our companions who had refused to go to ride with us, thinking
that a sailor has no more business with a horse than a fish has with a
balloon. They were moored, stem and stern, in a grog-shop, making a
great noise, with a crowd of Indians and hungry half-breeds about
them, and with a fair prospect of being stripped and dirked, or left
to pass the night in the calabozo. With a great deal of trouble, we
managed to get them down to the boats, though not without many angry
looks and interferences from the Spaniards, who had marked them out
for their prey. The Diana's crews- a set of worthless outcasts, who
had been picked up at the islands from the refuse of whale-ships,-
were all as drunk as beasts, and had a set-to, on the beach, with
their captain, who was in no better state than themselves. They swore
they would not go aboard, and went back to the town, were stripped and
beaten, and lodged in the calabozo, until the next day, when the
captain bought them out. Our forecastle, as usual after a liberty-day,
was a scene of tumult all night long, from the drunken ones. They had
just got to sleep toward morning, when they were turned up with the
rest, and kept at work all day in the water, carrying hides, their
heads aching so that they could hardly stand.
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