One of our crew, an old
man-of-war's man, of twenty years' standing, who had seen sin and
suffering in every shape, and whom I afterwards took to see Hope, said
it was dreadfully worse than anything he had ever seen, or even
dreamed of. He was horror-struck, as his countenance showed; yet he
had been among the worst cases in our naval hospitals. I could not get
the thought of the poor fellow out of my head all night; his
horrible suffering, and his apparently inevitable, horrible end.
The next day I told the captain of Hope's state, and asked him if he
would be so kind as to go and see him.
"What? a d----d Kanaka?"
"Yes, sir," said I; "but he has worked four years for our vessels,
and has been in the employ of our owners, both on shore and aboard."
"Oh! he be d----d!" said the captain, and walked off.
This same man died afterwards of a fever on the deadly coast of
Sumatra; and God grant he had better care taken of him in his
sufferings, than he ever gave to any one else! Finding nothing was
to be got from the captain, I consulted an old shipmate, who had
much experience in these matters, and got from him a recipe, which
he always kept by him.
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