Chapter 14

Notwithstanding my comparative insignificance, there was no real security
in remaining long in Charleston, and it was my strong desire to quit the
place. As "beggars cannot be choosers," I was glad to get on board the
schooner Carpenter, bound to St. Mary's and Philadelphia, for, and with,
ship-timber, as a foremast hand. I got on board undetected, and we sailed
the same day. Nothing occurred until after we left St. Mary's, when we met
with a singular accident. A few days out, it blowing heavy at the time,
our deck-load pressed so hard upon the beams as to loosen them, and the
schooner filled as far as her cargo--yellow pine--would allow. This
calamity proceeded from the fact, that the negroes who stowed the craft
neglected to wedge up the beams; a precaution that should never be
forgotten, with a heavy weight on deck. No very serious consequences
followed, however, as we managed to drive the craft ahead, and finally got
her into Philadelphia, with all her cargo on board. We did not lose a
stick, which showed that our captain was game, and did not like to let go
when he had once got hold. This person was a down-easter, and was well
acquainted with the Johnstons and Wiscasset. He tried hard to persuade me
to continue in the schooner as mate, with a view to carrying me back to my
old friends; but I turned a deaf ear to his advice. To own the truth, I
was afraid to go back to Wiscassett. My own desertion could not well be
excused, and then I was apprehensive the family might attribute to me the
desertion and death of young Swett. He had been my senior, it is true, and
was as able to influence me as I was to influence him; but conscience is a
thing so sensitive, that, when we do wrong, it is apt to throw the whole
error into our faces.

Quitting the Carpenter in Philadelphia, therefore, I went to live in a
respectable boarding-house, and engaged to go out in a brig called the
Margaret, working on board as a rigger and stevedore, until she should be
ready to sail. My berth was to be that of mate. The owner of this brig was
as notorious, in his way, as the ship's husband in Charleston I had heard
his character, and was determined, if he attempted to ride me, as he was
said to do many of his mates, and even captains, he should find himself
mounted on a hard-going animal. One day, things came to a crisis. The
owner was on the wharf, with me, and such a string of abuse as he launched
out upon me, I never before listened to. A crowd collected, and my blood
got up. I seized the man, and dropped him off the wharf into the water,
alongside of some hoop-poles, that I knew must prevent any accident. In
this last respect, I was sufficiently careful, though the ducking was very
thorough. The crowd gave three cheers, which I