第8章

"MayGoddamnyoursoultohell，WolfLarsen，onlyhell’stoogoodforyou，youcoward，youmurderer，youpig！"washisopeningsalutation。

Iwasthunderstruck。Ilookedforhisinstantannihilation。ButitwasnotWolfLarsen’swhimtoannihilatehim。Hesaunteredslowlyforwardtothebreakofthepoop，and，leaninghiselbowonthecornerofthecabin，gazeddownthoughtfullyandcuriouslyattheexcitedboy。

AndtheboyindictedWolfLarsenashehadneverbeenindictedbefore。

Thesailorsassembledinafearfulgroupjustoutsidetheforecastlescuttleandwatchedandlistened。Thehunterspiledpell—melloutofthesteerage，butasLeach’stiradecontinuedIsawthattherewasnolevityintheirfaces。Eventheywerefrightened，notattheboy’sterriblewords，butathisterribleaudacity。ItdidnotseempossiblethatanylivingcreaturecouldthusbeardWolfLarseninhisteeth。IknowformyselfthatIwasshockedintoadmirationoftheboy，andIsawinhimthesplendidinvinciblenessofimmortalityrisingabovethefleshandthefearsoftheflesh，asintheprophetsofold，tocondemnunrighteousness。

Andsuchcondemnation！HehaledforthWolfLarsen’ssoulnakedtothescornofmen。HeraineduponitcursesfromGodandHighHeaven，andwithereditwithaheatofinvectivethatsavoredofamediaevalexcommunicationoftheCatholicChurch。Heranthegamutofdenunciation，risingtoheightsofwraththatweresublimeandalmostGodlike，andfromsheerexhaustionsinkingtothevilestandmostindecentabuse。

Hisragewasamadness。Hislipswerefleckedwithasoapyfroth，andsometimeshechokedandgurgledandbecameinarticulate。Andthroughitall，calmandimpassive，leaningonhiselbowandgazingdown，WolfLarsenseemedlostinagreatcuriosity。Thiswildstirringofyeastylife，thisterrificrevoltanddefianceofmatterthatmoved，perplexedandinterestedhim。

EachmomentIlooked，andeverybodylooked，forhimtoleapupontheboyanddestroyhim。Butitwasnothiswhim。Hiscigarwentout，andhecontinuedtogazesilentlyandcuriously。

Leachhadworkedhimselfintoanecstasyofimpotentrage。

"Pig！Pig！Pig！"hewasreiteratingatthetopofhislungs。"Whydon’tyoucomedownandkillme，youmurderer？Youcandoit！ain’tafraid！There’snoonetostopyou！Damnsightbetterdeadandoutayourreachthanaliveandinyourclutches！Comeon，youcoward！Killme！Killme！Killme！"

ItwasatthisstagethatThomasMugridge’serraticsoulbroughthimintothescene。Hehadbeenlisteningatthegalleydoor，buthenowcameout，ostensiblytoflingsomescrapsovertheside，butobviouslytoseethekillinghewascertainwouldtakeplace。HesmirkedgreasilyupintothefaceofWolfLarsen，whoseemednottoseehim。ButtheCockneywasunabashed，thoughmad，starkmad。HeturnedtoLeach，saying：

"Suchlangwidge！Shockin’！"

Leach’sragewasnolongerimpotent。Hereatlastwassomethingreadytohand。AndforthefirsttimesincethestabbingtheCockneyhadappearedoutsidethegalleywithouthisknife。ThewordshadbarelylefthismouthwhenhewasknockeddownbyLeach。Threetimeshestruggledtohisfeet，strivingtogainthegalley，andeachtimewasknockeddown。

"Oh，Lord！"hecried。"’Elp！’Elp！Tyke’imaw’y，carn’tyer？Tyke’imaw’y！"

Thehunterslaughedfromsheerrelief。Tragedyhaddwindled，thefarcehadbegun。Thesailorsnowcrowdedboldlyaft，grinningandshuffling，towatchthepummellingofthehatedCockney。AndevenIfeltagreatjoysurgeupwithinme。IconfessthatIdelightedinthisbeatingLeachwasgivingtoThomasMugridge，thoughitwasasterrible，almost，astheoneMugridgehadcausedtobegiventoJohnson。ButtheexpressionofWolfLarsen’sfaceneverchanged。Hedidnotchangehispositioneither，butcontinuedtogazedownwithagreatcuriosity。Forallhispragmaticcertitude，itseemedasifhewatchedtheplayandmovementoflifeinthehopeofdiscoveringsomethingmoreaboutit，ofdiscerninginitsmaddestwrithingsasomethingwhichhadhithertoescapedhim，——thekeytoitsmystery，asitwere，whichwouldmakeallclearandplain。

Butthebeating！ItwasquitesimilartotheoneIhadwitnessedinthecabin。TheCockneystroveinvaintoprotecthimselffromtheinfuriatedboy。Andinvainhestrovetogaintheshelterofthecabin。Herolledtowardit，grovelledtowardit，felltowarditwhenhewasknockeddown。

Butblowfollowedblowwithbewilderingrapidity。Hewasknockedaboutlikeashuttlecock，until，finally，likeJohnson，hewasbeatenandkickedashelayhelplessonthedeck。Andnooneinterfered。Leachcouldhavekilledhim，but，havingevidentlyfilledthemeasureofhisvengeance，hedrewawayfromhisprostratefoe，whowaswhimperingandwailinginapuppyishsortofway，andwalkedforward。

Butthesetwoaffairswereonlytheopeningeventsoftheday’sprogramme。

IntheafternoonSmokeandHendersonfellfoulofeachother，andafusilladeofshotscameupfromthesteerage，followedbyastampedeoftheotherfourhuntersforthedeck。Acolumnofthick，acridsmoke——thekindalwaysmadebyblackpowder——wasarisingthroughtheopencompanionway，anddownthroughitleapedWolfLarsen。Thesoundofblowsandscufflingcametoourears。Bothmenwerewounded，andhewasthrashingthembothforhavingdisobeyedhisordersandcrippledthemselvesinadvanceofthehuntingseason。Infact，theywerebadlywounded，and，havingthrashedthem，heproceededtooperateupontheminaroughsurgicalfashionandtodresstheirwounds。servedasassistantwhileheprobedandcleansedthepassagesmadebythebullets，andIsawthetwomenendurehiscrudesurgerywithoutanaestheticsandwithnomoretoupholdthemthanastifftumblerofwhiskey。

Then，inthefirstdog—watch，troublecametoaheadintheforecastle。

Ittookitsriseoutofthetittle—tattleandtale—bearingwhichhadbeenthecauseofJohnson’sbeating，andfromthenoiseweheard，andfromthesightofthebruisedmennextday，itwaspatentthathalftheforecastlehadsoundlydrubbedtheotherhalf。

Theseconddog—watchandthedaywerewoundupbyafightbetweenJohansenandthelean，Yankee—lookinghunter，Latimer。ItwascausedbyremarksofLatimer’sconcerningthenoisesmadebythemateinhissleep，andthoughJohansenwaswhipped，hekeptthesteerageawakefortherestofthenightwhileheblissfullyslumberedandfoughtthefightoverandoveragain。TheSeaWolf：Chapter13CHAPTER13

ForthreedaysIdidmyownworkandThomasMugridge’stoo；andIflattermyselfthatIdidhisworkwell。IknowthatitwonWolfLarsen’sapproval，whilethesailorsbeamedwithsatisfactionduringthebrieftimemyrgimelasted。

"ThefirstcleanbitesinceIcomeaboard，"Harrisonsaidtomeatthegalleydoor，ashereturnedthedinnerpotsandpansfromtheforecastle。

"SomehowTommy’sgrubalwaystastesofgrease，stalegrease，andIreckonheain’tchangedhisshirtsinceheleft’Frisco。"

"Iknowhehasn’t，"Ianswered。

"AndI’llbethesleepsinit，"Harrisonadded。

"Andyouwon’tlose，"Iagreed。"Thesameshirt，andhehasn’thaditoffonceinallthistime。"

ButthreedayswasallWolfLarsenallowedhiminwhichtorecoverfromtheeffectsofthebeating。Onthefourthday，lameandsore，scarcelyabletosee，soclosedwerehiseyes，hewashaledfromhisbunkbythenapeoftheneckandsettohisduty。Hesniffledandwept，butWolfLarsenwaspitiless。

"Andseethatyouservenomoreslops，"washispartinginjunction。

"Nomoregreaseanddirt，mind，andacleanshirtoccasionally，oryou’llgetatowovertheside。Understand？"

ThomasMugridgecrawledweaklyacrossthegalleyfloor，andashortlurchoftheGhostsenthimstaggering。Inattemptingtorecoverhimself，hereachedfortheironrailingwhichsurroundedthestoveandkeptthepotsfromslidingoff；buthemissedtherailing，andhishand，withhisweightbehindit，landedsquarelyonthehotsurface。Therewasasizzleandodorofburningflesh，andasharpcryofpain。

"Oh，Gawd，Gawd，wot’aveIdone？"hewailed，sittingdowninthecoal—boxandnursinghisnewhurtbyrockingbackandforth。"W’y’asallthiscomeonme？Itmykesmefairsick，itdoes，an’Itryso’ardtogothroughlife’armlessan’’urtin’nobody。"

Thetearswererunningdownhispuffedanddiscoloredcheeks，andhisfacewasdrawnwithpain。Asavageexpressionflittedacrossit。

"Oh，’owI’ate’im！’OwI’ate’im！"hegrittedout。

"Whom？"Iasked；butthepoorwretchwasweepingagainoverhismisfortunes。

Lessdifficultitwastoguesswhomhehatedthanwhomhedidnothate。

ForIhadcometoseeamalignantdevilinhimwhichimpelledhimtohatealltheworld。Isometimesthoughtthathehatedevenhimself，sogrotesquelyhadlifedealtwithhim，andsomonstrously。Atsuchmomentsagreatsympathywelledupwithinme，andIfeltshamethatIhadeverjoyedinhisdiscomfitureorpain。Lifehadbeenunfairtohim。Ithadplayedhimascurvytrickwhenitfashionedhimintothethinghewas，andithadplayedhimscurvytrickseversince。Whatchancehadhetobeanythingelsethanhewas？

Andasthoughansweringmyunspokenthought，hewailed：

"Inever’adnochance，nor’arfachance！’Oowastheretosendmetoschool，orputtommyinmy’ungrybelly，orwipemybloodynoseforme，w’enIwasakiddy？’Ooeverdidanythingforme，heh？’Oo，Is’y？"

"Nevermind，Tommy，"Isaid，placingasoothinghandonhisshoulder。

"Cheerup。It’llallcomerightintheend。You’velongyearsbeforeyou，andyoucanmakeanythingyoupleaseofyourself。"

"It’salie！abloodylie！"heshoutedinmyface，flingingoffthehand。"It’salie，andyouknowit。I’malreadymyde，an’mydeoutofleavin’san’scraps。It’sallrightforyou，’Ump。Youwasbornagentleman。Youneverknewwotitwastogo’ungry，tocryyerselfasleepwithyerlittlebellygnawin’an’gnawin’，likearatinsideyer。Itcarn’tcomeright。

IfIwasPresidentoftheUnitedStytesto—morrer，’owwoulditfillmybellyforonetimew’enIwasakiddyanditwentempty？

"’Owcouldit，Is’y？Iwasborntosufferin’andsorrer。I’ve’admorecruelsufferin’thananytenmen，I’ave。I’vebeeninorspitalarfmybleedin’life。I’ve’adthefeverinAspinwall，in’Avana，inNewOrleans。

IneardiedofthescurvyandwasrottenwithitsixmonthsinBarbadoes。

Smallpoxin’Onolulu，twobrokenlegsinShanghai，pneumoniainUnalaska，threebustedribsan’myinsidesalltwistedin’Frisco。An’’ereIamnow。Lookatme！Lookatme！Myribskickedloosefrommybackagain。I’llbecoughin’bloodbeforeeyghtbells。’Owcanitbemydeuptome，Iarsk？

’Oo’sgoin’todoit？Gawd？’OwGawdmust’ave’atedmew’en’esignedmeonforavoyageinthisbloomin’worldof’is！"

Thistiradeagainstdestinywentonforanhourormore，andthenhebuckledtohiswork，limpingandgroaning，andinhiseyesagreathatredforallcreatedthings。Hisdiagnosiswascorrect，however，forhewasseizedwithoccasionalsicknesses，duringwhichhevomitedbloodandsufferedgreatpain。Andashesaid，itseemedGodhatedhimtoomuchtolethimdie，forheultimatelygrewbetterandwaxedmoremalignantthanever。

SeveraldaysmorepassedbeforeJohnsoncrawledondeckandwentabouthisworkinahalf—heartedway。Hewasstillasickman，andImorethanonceobservedhimcreepingpainfullyalofttoatopsail，ordroopingwearilyashestoodatthewheel。But，stillworse，itseemedthathisspiritwasbroken。HewasabjectbeforeWolfLarsenandalmostgrovelledtoJohansen。

NotsowastheconductofLeach。Hewentaboutthedecklikeatigercub，glaringhishatredopenlyatWolfLarsenandJohansen。

"I’lldoforyouyet，youslab—footedSwede，"IheardhimsaytoJohansenonenightondeck。

Thematecursedhiminthedarkness，andthenextmomentsomemissilestruckthegalleyasharprap。Therewasmorecursing，andamockinglaugh，andwhenallwasquietIstoleoutsideandfoundaheavyknifeimbeddedoveraninchinthesolidwood。Afewminuteslaterthematecamefumblingaboutinsearchofit，butIreturneditprivilytoLeachnextday。HegrinnedwhenIhandeditover，yetitwasagrinthatcontainedmoresincerethanksthanamultitudeoftheverbositiesofspeechcommontothemembersofmyownclass。

Unlikeanyoneelseintheship’scompany，Inowfoundmyselfwithnoquarrelsonmyhandsandinthegoodgracesofall。Thehunterspossiblynomorethantoleratedme，thoughnoneofthemdislikedme；whileSmokeandHenderson，convalescentunderadeckawningandswingingdayandnightintheirhammocks，assuredmethatIwasbetterthananyhospitalnurseandthattheywouldnotforgetmeattheendofthevoyagewhentheywerepaidoff。（AsthoughIstoodinneedoftheirmoney！I，whocouldhaveboughtthemout，bagandbaggage，andtheschooneranditsequipment，ascoreoftimesover！）Butuponmehaddevolvedthetaskoftendingtheirwounds，andpullingthemthrough，andIdidmybestbythem。

WolfLarsenunderwentanotherbadattackofheadachewhichlastedtwodays。Hemusthavesufferedseverely，forhecalledmein，andobeyedmycommandslikeasickchild。ButnothingIcoulddoseemedtorelievehim。

Atmysuggestion，however，hegaveupsmokinganddrinking；thoughwhysuchamagnificentanimalasheshouldhaveheadachesatallpuzzlesme。

"’TisthehandofGod，I’mtellin’you，"isthewayLouisseesit。"’Tisavisitationforhisblack—hearteddeeds，andthere’smorebehindandcomin’，orelse——"

"Orelse，"Iprompted。

"Godisnoddin’andnotdoin’hisduty，thoughit’smeasshouldn’tsayit。"

IwasmistakenwhenIsaidthatIwasinthegoodgracesofall。NotonlydoesThomasMugridgecontinuetohateme，buthehasdiscoveredanewreasonforhatingme。Ittookmenolittlewhiletopuzzleitout，butIfinallydiscoveredthatitwasbecauseIwasmoreluckilybornthanhe——"gentlemanborn，"heputit。

"Andstillnomoredeadmen，"ItwittedLouis，whenSmokeandHenderson，sidebyside，infriendlyconversation，tooktheirfirstexerciseondeck。

Louissurveyedmewithhisshrewdgrayeyesandshookhisheadportentously。

"She’sa—comin’，Itellyou，andit’llbesheetsandhalyards，standbyallhands，whenshebeginstohowl。I’vehadthefeelivitthislongtime，andIcanfeelitnowasplainlyasIfeeltheriggingivadarknight。

She’sclose，she’sclose。"

"Whogoesfirst？"Iqueried。

"NotoldfatLouis，Ipromiseyou，"helaughed。"For’tisinthebonesivmeIknowthatcomethistimenextyearI’llbegazin’intheoldmother’seyes，wearywithwatchin’ivtheseaforthefivesonsshegavetoit。"

"Wot’s’ebeens’yin’toyer？"ThomasMugridgedemandedamomentlater。

"Thathe’sgoinghomesomedaytoseehismother，"Ianswereddiplomatically。

"Inever’adnone，"wastheCockney’scomment，ashegazedwithlustreless，hopelesseyesintomine。TheSeaWolf：Chapter14CHAPTER14

IthasdawneduponmethatIhaveneverplacedapropervaluationuponwomankind。Forthatmatter，thoughnotamativetoanyconsiderabledegreesofarasIhavediscovered，Iwasneveroutsidetheatmosphereofwomenuntilnow。Mymotherandsisterswerealwaysaboutme，andIwasalwaystryingtoescapethem；fortheyworriedmetodistractionwiththeirsolicitudeformyhealthandwiththeirperiodicinroadsonmyden，whenmyorderlyconfusion，uponwhichIpridedmyself，wasturnedintoworseconfusionandlessorder，thoughitlookedneatenoughtotheeye。Inevercouldfindanythingwhentheyhaddeparted。Butnow，alas，howwelcomewouldhavebeenthefeeloftheirpresence，thefrou—frouandswish—swishoftheirskirtswhichIhadsocordiallydetested！Iamsure，ifIevergethome，thatIshallneverbeirritablewiththemagain。Theymaydosemeanddoctormemorning，noon，andnight，anddustandsweepandputmydentorightseveryminuteoftheday，andIshallonlyleanbackandsurveyitallandbethankfulinthatIampossessedofamotherandsomeseveralsisters。

Allofwhichhassetmewondering。WherearethemothersofthesetwentyandoddmenontheGhost？Itstrikesmeasunnaturalandunhealthfulthatmenshouldbetotallyseparatedfromwomenandherdthroughtheworldbythemselves。Coarsenessandsavageryaretheinevitableresults。Thesemenaboutmeshouldhavewives，andsisters，anddaughters；thenwouldtheybecapableofsoftness，andtenderness，andsympathy。Asitis，notoneofthemismarried。Inyearsandyearsnotoneofthemhasbeenincontactwithagoodwoman，orwithintheinfluence，orredemption，whichirresistiblyradiatesfromsuchacreature。Thereisnobalanceintheirlives。Theirmasculinity，whichinitselfisofthebrute，hasbeenoverdeveloped。

Theotherandspiritualsideoftheirnatureshasbeendwarfed——atrophied，infact。

Theyareacompanyofcelibates，grindingharshlyagainstoneanotherandgrowingdailymorecallousedfromthegrinding。Itseemstomeimpossiblesometimesthattheyeverhadmothers。Itwouldappearthattheyareahalf—brute，half—humanspecies，araceapart，whereinthereisnosuchthingassex；

thattheyarehatchedoutbythesunliketurtleeggs，orreceivelifeinsomesimilarandsordidfashion；andthatalltheirdaystheyfesterinbrutalityandviciousnessandintheenddieasunlovelyastheyhavelived。

Renderedcuriousbythisnewdirectionofideas，ItalkedwithJohansenlastnight——thefirstsuperfluouswordswithwhichhehasfavoredmesincethevoyagebegan。HeleftSwedenwhenhewaseighteen，isnowthirty—eight，andinalltheinterveningtimehasnotbeenhomeonce。Hehadmetatownsman，acoupleofyearsbefore，insomesailorboarding—houseinChile，sothatheknewhismothertobestillalive。

"Shemustbeaprettyoldwoman，now，"hesaid，staringmeditativelyintothebinnacleandthenjerkingasharpglanceatHarrison，whowassteeringapointoffthecourse。

"Whendidyoulastwritetoher？"

Heperformedhismentalarithmeticaloud。"Eighty—one；no——eighty—two，eh？no——eighty—three？Yes，eighty—three。Tenyearsago。FromsomelittleportinMadagascar。Iwastrading。

"Yousee，"hewenton，asthoughaddressinghisneglectedmotheracrosshalfthegirthoftheearth，"eachyearIwasgoinghome。Sowhatwasthegoodtowrite？Itwasonlyayear。Andeachyearsomethinghappened，andIdidnotgo。ButIammate，now，andwhenpayoffat’Frisco，maybewithfivehundreddollars，Iwillshipmyselfonawind—jammerroundtheHorntoLiverpool，whichwillgivememoremoney；andthenIwillpaymypassagefromtherehome。Thenshewillnotdoanymorework。"

"Butdoesshework？now？Howoldisshe？"

"Aboutseventy，"heanswered。Andthen，boastingly，"Weworkfromthetimewearebornuntilwedie，inmycountry。That’swhywelivesolong。

Iwilllivetoahundred。"

Ishallneverforgetthisconversation。ThewordswerethelastIeverheardhimutter。Perhapstheywerethelasthedidutter，too。For，goingdownintothecabintoturnin，Idecidedthatitwastoostuffytosleepbelow。Itwasacalmnight。WewereoutoftheTrades，andtheGhostwasforgingaheadbarelyaknotanhour。SoItuckedablanketandpillowundermyarmandwentupondeck。

AsIpassedbetweenHarrisonandthebinnacle，whichwasbuiltintothetopofthecabin，Inoticedthathewasthistimefullythreepointsoff。Thinkingthathewasasleep，andwishinghimtoescapereprimandorworse，Ispoketohim。Buthewasnotasleep。Hiseyeswerewideandstaring。

Heseemedgreatlyperturbed，unabletoreplytome。

"What’sthematter？"Iasked。"Areyousick？"

Heshookhishead，andwithadeepsigh，asofawakening，caughthisbreath。

"You’dbettergetonyourcourse，then，"Ichided。

Heputafewspokesover，andIwatchedthecompass—cardswingslowlytoNNWandsteadyitselfwithslightoscillations。

Itookafreshholdonmybedclothesandwaspreparingtostarton，whensomemovementcaughtmyeyeandIlookedasterntotherail。Asinewyhand，drippingwithwater，wasclutchingtherail。Asecondhandtookforminthedarknessbesideit。Iwatched，fascinated。WhatvisitantfromthegloomofthedeepwasItobehold？Whateveritwas，knewthatitwasclimbingaboardbythelog—line。Isawahead，thehairwetandstraight，shapeitself，andthentheunmistakableeyesandfaceofWolfLarsen。Hisrightcheekwasredwithblood，whichflowedfromsomewoundinthehead。

Hedrewhimselfinboardwithaquickeffort，andarosetohisfeet，glancingswiftly，ashedidso，atthemanatthewheel，asthoughtoassurehimselfofhisidentityandthattherewasnothingtofearfromhim。Thesea—waterwasstreamingfromhim。Itmadelittleaudiblegurgleswhichdistractedme。AshesteppedtowardmeIshrankbackinstinctively，forIsawthatinhiseyeswhichspelleddeath。

"Allright，Hump，"hesaidinalowvoice。"Where’sthemate？"

Ishookmyhead。

"Johansen！"hecalledsoftly。"Johansen！"

"Whereishe？"hedemandedofHarrison。

Theyoungfellowseemedtohaverecoveredhiscomposure，forheansweredsteadilyenough，"Idon’tknow，sir。Isawhimgofor’ardalittlewhileago。"

"SodidIgofor’ard。ButyouwillobservethatIdidn’tcomebackthewayIwent。Canyouexplainit？"

"Youmusthavebeenoverboard，sir。"

"ShallIlookforhiminthesteerage，sir？"Iasked。

WolfLarsenshookhishead。"Youwouldn’tfindhim，Hump。Butyou’lldo。Comeon。Nevermindyourbedding。Leaveitwhereitis。"

Ifollowedathisheels。Therewasnothingstirringamidships。

"Thosecursedhunters，"washiscomment。"Toodamnedfatandlazytostandafour—hourwatch。"

Butontheforecastle—headwefoundthreesailorsasleep。Heturnedthemoverandlookedattheirfaces。Theycomposedthewatchondeck，anditwastheship’scustom，ingoodweather，toletthewatchsleepwiththeexceptionoftheofficer，thehelmsman，andthelook—out。

"Who’slook—out？"hedemanded。

"Me，sir，"answeredHolyoak，oneofthedeep—watersailors，aslighttremorinhisvoice。"Iwinkedoffjustthisveryminute，sir。I’msorry，sir。Itwon’thappenagain。"

"Didyouhearorseeanythingondeck？"

"No，sir，I——"

ButWolfLarsenhadturnedawaywithasnortofdisgust，leavingthesailorrubbinghiseyeswithsurpriseathavingbeenletoffsoeasily。

"Softly，now，"WolfLarsenwarnedmeinawhisper，ashedoubledhisbodyintotheforecastlescuttleandpreparedtodescend。

Ifollowedwithaquakingheart。WhatwastohappenIknewnomorethandidIknowwhathadhappened。Butbloodhadbeenshed，anditwasthroughnowhimofWolfLarsenthathehadgoneoverthesidewithhisscalplaidopen。Besides，Johansenwasmissing。

Itwasmyfirstdescentintotheforecastle，andIshallnotsoonforgetmyimpressionofit，caughtasIstoodonmyfeetatthebottomoftheladder。Builtdirectlyintheeyesoftheschooner，itwasoftheshapeofatriangle，alongthethreesidesofwhichstoodthebunks，indouble—tier，twelveofthem。ItwasnolargerthanahallbedroominGrubStreet，andyettwelvemenwereherdedintoittoeatandsleepandcarryonallthefunctionsofliving。Mybedroomathomewasnotlarge，yetitcouldhavecontainedadozensimilarforecastles，andtakingintoconsiderationtheheightoftheceiling，ascoreatleast。

Itsmelledsourandmusty，andbythedimlightoftheswingingsea—lampIsaweverybitofavailablewall—spacehungdeepwithsea—boots，oilskins，andgarments，cleananddirty，ofvarioussorts。Theseswungbackandforthwitheveryrollofthevessel，givingrisetoabrushingsound，asoftreesagainstarooforwall。Somewhereabootthumpedloudlyandatirregularintervalsagainstthewall；and，thoughitwasamildnightonthesea，therewasacontinualchorusofthecreakingtimbersandbulkheadsandofabysmalnoisesbeneaththeflooring。

Thesleepersdidnotmind。Therewereeightofthem，——thetwowatchesbelow，——andtheairwasthickwiththewarmthandodoroftheirbreathing，andtheearwasfilledwiththenoiseoftheirsnoringandoftheirsighsandhalf—groans，tokensplainoftherestoftheanimal—man。Butweretheysleeping？allofthem？Orhadtheybeensleeping？ThiswasevidentlyWolfLarsen’squest——tofindthemenwhoappearedtobeasleepandwhowerenotasleeporwhohadnotbeenasleepveryrecently。AndhewentaboutitinawaythatremindedmeofastoryoutofBoccaccio。

Hetookthesea—lampfromitsswingingframeandhandedittome。Hebeganatthefirstbunksforwardonthestarboardside。InthetoponelayOofty—Oofty，aKanakaandsplendidseaman，sonamedbyhismates。Hewasasleeponhisbackandbreathingasplacidlyasawoman。Onearmwasunderhishead，theotherlayontopoftheblankets。WolfLarsenputthumbandforefingertothewristandcountedthepulse。InthemidstofittheKanakaroused。Heawokeasgentlyasheslept。Therewasnomovementofthebodywhatever。Theeyes，only，moved。Theyflashedwideopen，bigandblack，andstared，unblinking，intoourfaces。WolfLarsenputhisfingertohislipsasasignforsilence，andtheeyesclosedagain。