forward, he was left high and dry at the side of the long-boat,
still holding on to his tin pot, which had now nothing in it but
salt water. But nothing could ever daunt him, or overcome, for a
moment, his habitual good humor. Regaining his legs, and shaking
his fist at the man at the wheel, he rolled below, saying, as he
passed, "A man's no sailor, if he can't take a joke." The ducking
was not the worst of such an affair, for, as there was an allowance
of tea, you could get no more from the galley; and though sailors
would never suffer a man to go without, but would always turn in
a little from their own pots to fill up his, yet this was at best
but dividing the loss among all hands.

Something of the same kind befell me a few days after. The cook
had just made for us a mess of hot "scouse"--that is, biscuit pounded
fine, salt beef cut into small pieces, and a few potatoes, boiled up
together and seasoned with pepper. This was a rare treat, and I,
being the last at the galley, had it put in my charge to carry down
for the mess. I got along very well as far as the hatchway, and was
just getting down the steps, when a heavy sea, lifting the stern out
of water, and passing forward, dropping it down again, threw the steps
from their place, and I came down into the steerage a little faster
than I meant to, with the kid on top of me, and the whole precious
mess scattered over the floor. Whatever your feelings may be,
you must make a joke of everything at sea; and if you were to fall
from aloft and be caught in the belly of a sail, and thus saved
from instant death, it would not do to look at all disturbed,
or to make a serious matter of it.

Friday, Nov. 14th. We were now well to the westward of the Cape
and were changing our course to the northward as much as we dared,