HE crew of the Wilmerdine came down to the dock in two express-wagons, with their dunnage, and climbed, or were lifted, over the rail; then, while the six boarding-house runners who had delivered them stood guard on the dock, and the shipping-master who had sold them went below with the captain for his money, the chief mate inspected them from the poop.
An unkempt muster it was. Three lay helpless on the deck, others leaned for support against the rail or propped themselves against their clothes-bags—of which there were eight among the twenty. Not a chest was there; but one man guarded closely a pair of new carpet slippers; one held tightly under his arm a flannel shirt; others had other single articles—sou'westers, oil-skin coats without pants, oil-skin pants without coats, dungaree overalls, mateless boots, stockings, and mittens; and one of them, the raggedest and drunkenest man erect, defied Fate and Cape Horn with an empty, three-by-two pasteboard trunk such as little girls receive at Christmas for dolls' clothing. Two only seemed to know why they were there—clean, neatly dressed fellows, who took the initiative in shouldering their bags and heading for the forecastle. They were called back to assist the three helpless ones forward, and while they were doing so the captain and shipping-master appeared.
"What d'ye think of the crew, Mr, Saltup?" asked the latter.
The mate glowered into the hard face of the shipping-master and said, contemptuously: "It'll take me a month to lick 'em into shape. I never saw a good crew shipped out o' Frisco yet."
"And ye never will in an American ship while ye treat men like wild animals," said the other, who, with his money in his pocket, felt independent and virtuous. "Ye feed them on condemned navy stores, keep them up in their watch below, and hammer them with pump-brakes; then ye expect good men to ship deep-water. All the good men are in the coasters. None o' yer crew signed articles willingly, or knew where they were goin', but two; and ye couldn't ha' got them without a cash advance 'stead of a note—ye know that, cappen."
"I know it—blast their hides. I had to have two able seamen, at least. But they'll earn their money twice over this passage. I expect you to watch that they don't jump her."
"I'll watch, but don't ye fear, cappen. Sandy and Dennis want to get home. They bought drafts with their advance and mailed them ahead to their families. If they didn't want to ride with ye they wouldn't be here now."
The crew, those who could work, were called out; mooring-chains and fenders taken in, a line passed to a tug alongside, and the Wilmerdine towed to good holding-ground, where the anchor was dropped, and the bending of sails and the "licking into shape" of the crew were begun. No clubs were needed for the latter. The hammer-like fists of the two mates—both large men—answered every purpose; and when a man failed to answer "Sir" when roared at, or did not jump quickly enough to a task, he felt the weight of one—sometimes two at once—of these fists, and, if not rendered unconscious, was further punished by boot-heels. By noon half the crew were unable to go aloft, and the forecastle bunks contained three more unconscious men. The two men spoken of had escaped physical contact with their superiors, but had received their full share of the cursings and billingsgate applied; for they were of the crew and must be impressed.
"I do be thinkin', Sandy," said one of them as they passed a head-earing on the fore topgallant yard, "that this'll be a hot ship to thravel home in."
"Aye, mun, that ut weel," answered the other. "But beggars maunna be choosers, an' thirty shillin' a week is muckle money t' pay oot t' a bardin'-hoose. We've seened articles, an' we're oot in t' stream, Dennis."
"An' it's sorry I be thot I signed; fur I don't like the color o' the mate's hair."