ultimately necessitated the continuous use of both pumps.
The sea was running cross and heavy, which caused the cargo
to shift, and the water to come on the ceiling, that is, the
inner planking of the hull. A portion of the crew that could
be spared from the pumps was ordered to take some forecastle
bulkhead planks down, and make their way into the hold for
the purpose of trimming the cargo over. The work was carried
on vigorously, amid a continuous flow of adjectives. The
captain and owner, both of whom were much-respected men,
were consigned by the sailors many times to perdition and
other more or less sulphurous places. Indeed, the father of
evil was freely invoked against them; but as both captain
and owner are very much alive at the present time, the
former controlling a vast business in conjunction with his
sons, and the captain for many years having been living a
peaceful life far away from the desolate storming of angry
waters, whatever may be in store for those two well-cursed
gentlemen, external appearances up to date favour the
assumption that Jack's invocation has been unheeded. There
was much desultory talk during the spells of shovelling, and
one of the sailors, who, by the way, had at one time
commanded his father's Scotch clipper, remarked, as though
he were soliloquising, "I don't care a Scotch damn so long
as the rats stick to us." Whereupon there arose a discussion
upon the protective influence of rats, and it was decided
that no leaky vessel should go to sea without them. One of
the men thought he heard water coming in at the bow, and, as
that part of the hold was not occupied with cargo, he made
his way towards it, and asked me to bring him a light. He
inquired if I heard anything. I replied in the affirmative.