Chapter 34 - Page 2

the bitterest weather. He talked about them much as a farmer would about
the loss of so many sheep by the murrain.

The captain of the vessel was an Englishman, as were also the three
mates, master and boatswain. These officers lived astern in the cabin,
where every Sunday they read the Church of England's prayers, while the
heathen at the other end of the ship were left to their false gods and
idols. And thus, with Christianity on the quarter-deck, and paganism on
the forecastle, the Irrawaddy ploughed the sea.

As if to symbolize this state of things, the "fancy piece" astern
comprised, among numerous other carved decorations, a cross and a miter;
while forward, on the bows, was a sort of devil for a figure-head--a
dragon-shaped creature, with a fiery red mouth, and a switchy-looking
tail.

After her cargo was discharged, which was done "to the sound of flutes
and soft recorders"--something as work is done in the navy to the music
of the boatswain's pipe--the Lascars were set to "stripping the ship"
that is, to sending down all her spars and ropes.

At this time, she lay alongside of us, and the Babel on board almost
drowned our own voices. In nothing but their girdles, the Lascars hopped
about aloft, chattering like so many monkeys; but, nevertheless, showing
much dexterity and seamanship in their manner of doing their work.

Every Sunday, crowds of well-dressed people came down to the dock to see
this singular ship; many of them perched themselves in the shrouds of
the neighboring craft, much to the wrath of Captain Riga, who left
strict orders with our old ship-keeper, to drive all strangers out of
the Highlander's rigging. It was amusing at these times, to watch the
old women with umbrellas, who stood on the quay staring at the Lascars,
even when they desired to be private. These inquisitive old ladies
seemed to regard the strange sailors as a species of wild animal, whom
they might gaze at with as much impunity, as at leopards in the
Zoological Gardens.

One night I was returning to the ship, when just as I was passing
through the Dock Gate, I noticed a white figure squatting against the
wall outside. It proved to be one of the Lascars who was smoking, as the
regulations of the docks prohibit his indulging this luxury on board his
vessel. Struck with the curious fashion of his pipe, and the odor from
it, I inquired what he was smoking; he replied "Joggerry," which is a
species of weed, used in place of tobacco.

Finding that he spoke good English, and was quite communicative, like
most smokers, I sat down by Dattabdool-mans, as he called himself, and
we fell into conversation. So instructive was his discourse, that when
we