A Queer Race: The Story of a Strange People — page 66: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A QUEER RACE. 63 ship to Montevideo. However, I’ll try my best, and more than that can no man do.” Ife kept the deck almost continually, and when he turued in for an hour’s sleep, Bolsover (who now acted as mate) took the command, ‘These two were the only offi- cers left alive, and it was no longer possible to arrange the watches in the regular way. We had to do as well us we could. and I gave all the help 1n my power, which was no¢ much, I fear, for J am no seaman. But I could keep them company, and nowand then I took a turn at the wheel, for, short-handed as we were becoming, ability to steer might stand us in good stead. I was getting up one morning rather past my usual time, for | had turned in late the night before, when Bucklow came to me in a state of suppressed excitement. ‘““T want you on deck,” he said. ‘‘ There is going: to be a row. The men have got to the spirits, and are early all drunk and getting obstreperous—won’t cbey orders. ‘The wind is freshening, too, and unless we take in sail we sball be in a mess.” I made haste with my dressing, and followed him on deck forthwith, first putting a revolver in my trousers pocket, by way of being ready for all emergencies. Except the quarter-master at the wheel and a Swede, ealled Oscar, a decent, God-fearing man, all the hands were in the waist of the ship. They had broached a eusk of rum, and were nearly all more or less drunk. Bucklow and bolsover were remonstrating with them, and trying to persuade them to return to their duty and do as they were bid. The answer was a laugh of defiance and a torrent of abuse. ‘ ‘¢We'll work no more on this ship,” shouted one fel- low. ‘f Let her go to the bottom, and be d——d to her.” ‘‘Come, come, men, be reasonable,’’ remonstrated Bucklow. ‘It is very rough on you, I know; it is rough on all of us. But this sort of thing will do no good. The more you drink, the more likely you are to “That’s what we want. We want to die,” hiccoughed a sailor, filling himself a glass of ram, ‘‘ What’s the use of living? ‘Tell me that. What’s the use of living on a comicboo eo Ee)