When the last luff
was hooked on, all hands were called to the rope- cook, steward, and
all- and ranging ourselves at the falls, one behind the other, sitting
down on the hides, with our heads just even with the beams, we set
taught upon the tackles, and striking up a song, and all lying back at
the chorus, we bowsed the tackles home, and drove the large books
chock in out of sight.
The sailor's songs for capstans and falls are of a peculiar kind,
having a chorus at the end of each line. The burden is usually sung,
by one alone, and, at the chorus, all hands join in,- and the louder
the noise, the better. With us, the chorus seemed almost to raise
the decks of the ship, and might be heard at a great distance, ashore.
A song is as necessary to sailors as the drum and fife to a soldier.
They can't pull in time, or pull with a will, without it. Many a time,
when a thing goes heavy, with one fellow yo-ho-ing, a lively song,
like "Heave, to the girls!" "Nancy oh!" "Jack Crosstree," etc., has
put life and strength into every arm. We often found a great
difference in the effect of the different songs in driving in the
hides.
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