The usual outfit of pumps, white stockings,
loose white duck trowsers, blue jackets, clean checked shirts,
black kerchiefs, hats
Well varnished, with a fathom of black
ribbon over the left eye, a silk handkerchief flying from the
outside jacket pocket, and four or five dollars tied up in the
back of the neckerchief, and we were "all right." One of the
quarter-boats pulled us ashore, and we steamed up to the town.
I tried to find the church, in order to see the worship, but was told
that there was no service, except a mass early in the morning; so we
went about the town, visiting the Americans and English, and the
natives whom we had known when we were here before. Toward noon
we procured horses, and rode out to the Carmel mission, which is
about a league from the town, where we got something in the way
of a dinner - beef, eggs, frijoles, tortillas, and some middling
wine - from the mayordomo, who, of course, refused to make any
charge, as it was the Lord's gift, yet received our present,
as a gratuity, with a low bow, a touch of the hat, and "Dios
se lo pague!"
After this repast, we had a fine run, scouring the whole country
on our fleet horses, and came into town soon after sundown.
Here we found our companions who had refused to go to ride
with us, thinking that a sailor has no more business with a horse
than a fish has with a balloon. They were moored, stem and stern,
in a grog-shop, making a great noise, with a crowd of Indians and
hungry half-breeds about them, and with a fair prospect of being
stripped and dirked, or left to pass the night in the calabozo.
With a great deal of trouble, we managed to get them down to the
boats, though not without many angry looks and interferences from
the Spaniards, who had marked them out for their prey. The Diana's
crew, - a set of worthless outcasts, who had been picked up at the
islands from the refuse of whale-ships, - were all as drunk as beasts,
and had a set-to, on the beach, with their captain, who was in no
better state than themselves. They swore they would not go aboard,
and went back to the town, were stripped and beaten, and lodged in
the calabozo, until the next day, when the captain bought them out.
Our forecastle, as usual after a liberty-day, was a scene of tumult
all night long, from the drunken ones. They had just got to sleep
toward morning, when they were turned up with the rest, and kept at
work all day in the water, carrying hides, their heads aching so that
they could hardly stand. This is sailor's pleasure.
Nothing worthy of remark happened while we were here, except a little
boxing-match on board our own ship, which gave us something to talk
about. A broad-backed, big-headed Cape Cod boy, about sixteen
years old, had been playing the bully, for the whole voyage,
over a slender, delicate-looking boy, from one of the Boston
schools, and over whom he had much the advantage, in strength,
age, and experience in the ship's duty, for this was the first
time the Boston boy had been on salt water. The latter, however,
had "picked up his crumbs," was learning his duty, and getting
strength and confidence daily; and began to assert his rights
against his oppressor. Still, the other was his master, and,
by his superior strength, always tackled with him and threw him
down. One afternoon, before we were turned-to, these boys got
into a violent squabble in the between-decks, when George (the
Boston boy) said he would fight Nat, if he could have fair play.
The chief mate heard the noise, dove down the hatchway, hauled them
both up on deck, and told them to shake hands and have no more
trouble for the voyage, or else they should fight till one gave
in for beaten. Finding neither willing to make an offer for
reconciliation, he called all hands up, (for the captain was
ashore, and he could do as he chose aboard,) ranged the crew
in the waist, marked a line on the deck, brought the two boys
up to it, making them "toe the mark;" then made the bight of a
rope fast to a belaying pin, and stretched it across the deck,
bringing it just above their waists. "No striking below the
rope!" And there they stood, one on each side of it, face to
face, and went at it like two game-cocks. The Cape Cod boy, Nat,
put in his double-fisters, starting the blood, and bringing the
black and blue spots all over the face and arms of the other,
whom we expected to see give in every moment: but the more he
was hurt, the better he fought. Time after time he was knocked
nearly down, but up he came again and faced the mark, as bold as
a lion, again to take the heavy blows, which sounded so as to
make one's heart turn with pity for him. At length he came up
to the mark for the last time, his shirt torn from his body, his
face covered with blood and bruises, and his eyes flashing fire,
and swore he would stand there until one or the other was killed,
and set-to like a young fury. "Hurrah in the bow!" said the men,
cheering him on. "Well crowed!" "Never say die, while there's
a shot in the locker!" Nat tried to close with him, knowing his
advantage, but the mate stopped that, saying there should be fair
play, and no fingering. Nat then came up to the mark, but looked
white about the mouth, and his blows were not given with half the
spirit of his first. He was evidently cowed.
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