We now began to drift down toward the Ayacucho; when her

again. We now began to drift down toward the Ayacucho; when her

boat put off, and brought her commander, Captain Wilson, on board.

He was a short, active, well-built man, about fifty years of age;

and being some twenty years older than our captain, and a thorough

seaman, he did not hesitate to give his advice, and, from giving

advice, he gradually came to taking the command; ordering us when

to heave and when to pawl, and backing and filling the topsails,

setting and taking in jib and trysail, whenever he thought best.

Our captain gave a few orders, but as Wilson generally

countermanded them, saying, in an easy, fatherly kind of way, “O

no! Captain Thompson, you don’t want the jib on her,” or “It

isn’t time yet to heave!” he soon gave it up. We had no

objections to this state of things, for Wilson was a kind man, and

had an encouraging and pleasant way of speaking to us, which made

everything go easily. After two or three hours of constant labor

at the windlass, heaving and yo-ho-ing with all our might, we

brought up an anchor, with the Loriotte’s small bower fast to it.

Having cleared this, and let it go, and cleared our hawse, we got

our other anchor, which had dragged half over the harbor. “Now,”

said Wilson, “I’ll find you a good berth”; and, setting both the

topsails, he carried us down, and brought us to anchor, in

handsome style, directly abreast of the hide-house which we were

to use. Having done this, he took his leave, while we furled the

sails, and got our breakfast, which was welcome to us, for we had

worked hard, and eaten nothing since yesterday afternoon, and it

was nearly twelve o’clock. After breakfast, and until night, we

were employed in getting out the boats and mooring ship.

After supper, two of us took the captain on board the Lagoda. As

he came alongside, he gave his name, and the mate, in the gangway,

called out to Captain Bradshaw, down the companion-way, “Captain

Thompson has come aboard, sir!” “Has he brought his brig with

him?” asked the rough old fellow, in a tone which made itself

heard fore and aft. This mortified our captain not a little, and

it became a standing joke among us, and, indeed, over the coast,

for the rest of the voyage. The captain went down into the cabin,

and we walked forward and put our heads down the forecastle, where

we found the men at supper. “Come down, shipmates![2] come down!”

said they, as soon as they saw us; and we went down, and found a

large, high forecastle, well lighted, and a crew of twelve or

fourteen men eating out of their kids and pans, and drinking their

tea, and talking and laughing, all as independent and easy as so

many “woodsawyer’s clerks.” This looked like comfort and