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Naval Occasions, and Some Traits of the Sailor-man

Chapter 5 THE ARGONAUTS.

Word Count: 1327    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

erchance th

rmost parts

, for the good

d as oft a

ws of t

raught through scuttles and gun-ports are thus reduced to a minimum. There is, furthermore, an Affliction known as "prickly heat," beside which chastisement with scorpions is futile and ineffectual; moreover, you must meet the same faces day after day, month after month, at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, t

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rship of a piece of soap, which may seem a trivial enough matter-as indeed it was; but when you have lain sweating under the awnings all through a breathless night, when, havin

d had time to dry on their damaged knuckles. But beyond a peevish request that they should not hold their dri

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he Gunroom with a whoop of joy and

" chorussed the i

velling under the table for his gun-case. "We can clear out till Sunday night, an' if there's a scratc

Sea. Four navigating experts flung themselves upon a large-scale Admiralty Chart: guns and cartridges appeared as if by magic. A self-appointed Committee of Supply, wrangling amicably, invaded the pantry; blankets were hurriedly dragged

on a bundle of rugs in the stern sat the Coxswain, one hand on the tiller, the other shading his eyes from the afternoon sun. The remainder of the crew disposed themselves in more or less inelegant attitudes of ease in the bottom of the boat. She had been rig

s a bit of

his a bit o

and the ceaseless adjustment of the scales of discipline. Forward in the bows one of the bowmen hove the lead, chanting imaginary soundings with ultra-professional intonation: "A-a-and

barrier at high-water mark, and overhanging palms threw shadows deep and delectably mysterious. As the water shoaled, seaweed stretched purple tentacles upward out of the gloom, swaying and undulating towards the swirl

ising and dipping lazily, the boat headed towards an inlet whose sh

he anchor splashed overside, and a moment later a dozen fi

rent the air with song. The long day passed all too quickly. Swiftly the tropic night swept in over painted sky and tree-top. Ghost-like figures came splashing from pools, sliding down from trees, floating

ry kelp into the white heart of the fire. It spluttered angrily and then flared, throwing

riggled into a sitting posture and, hugging the corners of his blanket over his shoulders, started a song. It was from a comic opera two years old, but it was the last thing they heard befor

d as the moon, full sail upon the face of heaven, flooded the islands with solemn light, the last Argonaut rolled over and began to snore. The waves lapped drowsily along t

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Out of the darkness drifted the hum of voices, and presently he heard a clear laugh, mirthful and care

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