Chapter 16 - Page 2

almost
frightened me to hear it; it seemed so much like a spirit, at such a
lofty and solitary height.

Though there was a pretty smooth sea, and little wind; yet, at this
extreme elevation, the ship's motion was very great; so that when the
ship rolled one way, I felt something as a fly must feel, walking the
ceiling; and when it rolled the other way, I felt as if I was hanging
along a slanting pine-tree.

But presently I heard a distant, hoarse noise from below; and though I
could not make out any thing intelligible, I knew it was the mate
hurrying me. So in a nervous, trembling desperation, I went to casting
off the gaskets, or lines tying up the sail; and when all was ready,
sung out as I had been told, to "hoist away!" And hoist they did, and me
too along with the yard and sail; for I had no time to get off, they
were so unexpectedly quick about it. It seemed like magic; there I was,
going up higher and higher; the yard rising under me, as if it were
alive, and no soul in sight. Without knowing it at the time, I was in a
good deal of danger, but it was so dark that I could not see well enough
to feel afraid--at least on that account; though I felt frightened enough
in a promiscuous way. I only held on hard, and made good the saying of
old sailors, that the last person to fall overboard from the rigging is
a landsman, because he grips the ropes so fiercely; whereas old tars are
less careful, and sometimes pay the penalty.

After this feat, I got down rapidly on deck, and received something like
a compliment from Max the Dutchman.

This man was perhaps the best natured man among the crew; at any rate,
he treated me better than the rest did; and for that reason he deserves
some mention.

Max was an old bachelor of a sailor, very precise about his wardrobe,
and prided himself greatly upon his seamanship, and entertained some
straight-laced, old-fashioned notions about the duties of boys at sea.
His hair, whiskers, and cheeks were of a fiery red; and as he wore a red
shirt, he was altogether the most combustible looking man I ever saw.

Nor did his appearance belie him; for his temper was very inflammable;
and at a word, he would explode in a shower of hard words and
imprecations. It was Max that several times set on foot those
conspiracies against Jackson, which I have spoken of before; but he
ended by paying him a grumbling homage, full of resentful reservations.

Max sometimes manifested some little interest in my welfare; and often
discoursed concerning the sorry figure I would cut in my tatters when we
got to Liverpool, and the discredit it would bring on the American
Merchant Service; for like all European seamen in American ships, Max
prided himself not a