Chapter 31 - Page 2

the stays, from one mast to the other; climbing up to the truck; or
lounging out to the ends of the yards; exploring wherever there was a
foothold. It was like climbing about in some mighty old oak, and
resting in the crotches.

To a sailor, a ship's ropes are a study. And to me, every rope-yarn
of the Parki's was invested with interest. The outlandish fashion of
her shrouds, the collars of her stays, the stirrups, seizings,
Flemish-horses, gaskets,--all the wilderness of her rigging, bore
unequivocal traces of her origin.

But, perhaps, my pleasantest hours were those which I spent,
stretched out on a pile of old sails, in the fore-top; lazily dozing
to the craft's light roll.

Frequently, I descended to the cabin: for the fiftieth time,
exploring the lockers and state-rooms for some new object of
curiosity. And often, with a glimmering light, I went into the
midnight hold, as into old vaults and catacombs; and creeping between
damp ranges of casks, penetrated into its farthest recesses.

Sometimes, in these under-ground burrowings, I lighted upon sundry
out-of-the-way hiding places of Annatoo's; where were snugly secreted
divers articles, with which she had been smitten. In truth, no small
portion of the hull seemed a mine of stolen goods, stolen out of its
own bowels. I found a jaunty shore-cap of the captain's, hidden away
in the hollow heart of a coil of rigging; covered over in a manner
most touchingly natural, with a heap of old ropes; and near by, in a
breaker, discovered several entire pieces of calico, heroically tied
together with cords almost strong enough to sustain the mainmast.

Near the stray light, which, when the hatch was removed, gleamed down
into this part of the hold, was a huge ground-tier butt, headless as
Charles the First. And herein was a mat nicely spread for repose; a
discovery which accounted for what had often proved an enigma. Not
seldom Annatoo had been among the missing; and though, from stem to
stern, loudly invoked to come forth and relieve the poignant distress
of her anxious friends, the dame remained perdu; silent and invisible
as a spirit. But in her own good time, she would mysteriously emerge;
or be suddenly espied lounging quietly in the forecastle, as if she
had been there from all eternity.

Useless to inquire, "Where hast thou been, sweet Annatoo?" For no
sweet rejoinder would she give.

But now the problem was solved. Here, in this silent cask in the
hold, Annatoo was wont to coil herself away, like a garter-snake
under a stone.

Whether-she-thus stood sentry over her goods secreted round about:
whether she here performed penance like a nun in her cell; or
was moved to this unaccountable freak by the