Many a provocation has
been offered, and a system of petty oppression pursued towards men,
the force and meaning of which would appear as nothing to strangers,
and doubtless do appear so to many "'long-shore" juries and judges.
The next little diversion, was a battle on the forecastle one
afternoon, between the mate and the steward. They had been on bad
terms the whole voyage; and had threatened a rupture several times.
This afternoon, the mate asked him for a tumbler of water, and he
refused to get it for him, saying that he waited upon nobody but the
captain: and here he had the custom on his side. But in answering,
he left off "the handle to the mate's name." This enraged the mate,
who called him a "black soger;" and at it they went, clenching,
striking, and rolling over and over; while we stood by, looking on,
and enjoying the fun. The darky tried to butt him, but the mate got
him down, and held him, the steward singing out, "Let me go, Mr.
Brown, or there'll be blood spilt!" In the midst of this, the
captain came on deck, separated them, took the steward aft, and gave
him half a dozen with a rope's end.
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