The Blood Ship

k, keenly relishing the chance of resting. For there was to be no "farming" away the night watches in the Golden Bough

half lounged at the wheel. The round moon brightened the world, the west pyramids of canvas above me bellied taut, the cordage wrung a stirring whistle from the wind, the silver spray cascaded on the weather deck. I watched the scene with delight, drank in the living beauty of that ship, and felt the witchery the

twelve watch was Yankee Swope's favorite prowling time. But he did not appear; indeed, he had not shown himself since he had so i

of the companion hatch and flitted aft towards me. Then, when she was close enough to discern my features by the reflection from the binnacle lig

respectable bulk for Newman's gigantic body. She had expected to f

r her beauty, though she was fair enough, in all faith, as she stood there in the moonlight. It was something bigger, something deeper, a wave of sympathy and pity that surged through my being, a feeling I had

t my presence, for she suddenly buried her face in her hands, and her shoulders commenced to heave. It stabbed me to the quick, the sight of that noiseless grief. My eyelids smarted, and my throat bulged uncomfortably. What

t wish him to see her weeping, and since she did not seem to

e within the narrow radius of the binnacle lights, and her eyes looked stra

him I come forward in the morning. Tell him-for my sake-as he

d was gone below. And up the poop ladder tramp

liars of the second mate before

radesmen lived by themselves in the round-house, ate aft at a special table, and, save when emergency work prevented, stood watch and watch. They stood their night watches aft, with the officer on deck. T

serious business, a hanging business, the business of scoundrels, or the last resort of desperate men. I knew the consequences of m

e was plenty of rebellious spirit forward, and shrewd, daring fellows eager to lead, because of piratical greed. Also, sh

y, and later. A hell-ship was not just the result of senseless brutality on the part of the officers. She was the product of a system. The captain rode high in his owner'

sleek-jowled, comfortable pillar of church and society first thought of it, and whispered it into his skipper's ear. And the skipper whispered it

essel returned to an American port. Think of the saving to the owners if we deserted in Hong Kong. They would have no labor bill, practically, for working the ship from America to China, no labor

d it. Why, some skippers-like Yankee Swope--boasted they never paid off a crew. Talk about efficiency, and reducing ov

, adopted this system. But enough did to give American ships

read the evil fame of the vessel over the five oceans. Sailors then would not willing ship in her-save, of course, a few adventur

f sailortown, the captain paid over his blood money, and the boarding master delivered him his crew, drunk, drugged and sandbagged. When he got to sea he would find his crew composed chiefly of the very scum of the watersid

their afternoon watches below, and thumping the stiffs, because they were lubberly at their work. This treatment was sufficiently severe to produce th

e, became perfect fiends. They came to enjoy beating up men. In some ships, the dressing

watch! Always, after the first day out, did the foc'sle bunks c

es cringe away before you with fear in their eyes. I imagine it is the same thrill a wild animal tamer feels as he faces his beasts. I felt this fascinating sensation many times after I had become a mate of ships. Lynch had no mercy on the stiffs of our watch; he hammered the rudiments of seamanship into t

zgibbon, and sailors and stiffs alike caught it from him

n never stirred on deck without a deadly bulge in his coat pocket. Lynch stalked among us by night or day, alone, and unafraid. After dark,

had fed a certain strong Sadistic element in his nature until inflicting pain upon others had become his chief passion. I can imagine his perverted soul living

or the characters of bucko mates, during the balance of that tr

tened in silence, and his face grew soft. He squeezed my hand, and whispered somewhat brokenly, "Thank

him . . . to look behind him when he walks in the dark," his feat

is?" I

turned away towards my bunk. But at

izes but that a man might mistake us after dark. Keep your weather ey

all I look f

h," h