Chapter 6 - Page 2

frolicsome; their spirits
even flow far into the first of the long "night-watches;" but upon
its expiration at "eight bells" (midnight), silence begins to reign;
if you hear a voice it is no cherub's: all exclamations are oaths.

At eight bells, the mariners on deck, now relieved from their cares,
crawl out from their sleepy retreats in old monkey jackets, or coils
of rigging, and he to their hammocks, almost without interrupting
their dreams: while the sluggards below lazily drag themselves up the
ladder to resume their slumbers in the open air.

For these reasons then, the moonless sea midnight was just the time
to escape. Hence, we suffered a whole day to pass unemployed; waiting
for the night, when the star board-quarter-boats'-watch, to
which we belonged, would be summoned on deck at the eventful eight of
the bell.

But twenty-four hours soon glide away; and "Starboleens ahoy; eight
bells there below;" at last started me from a troubled doze.

I sprang from my hammock, and would have lighted my pipe. But the
forecastle lamp had gone out. An old sea-dog was talking about sharks
in his sleep. Jarl and our solitary watch-mate were groping their way
into their trowsers. And little was heard but the humming of the
still sails aloft; the dash of the waves against the bow; and the
deep breathing of the dreaming sailors around.