I suppose
he was about thirty: a powerful, active man, with a
blue eye, a thick head of hair, about the colour of
oakum and growing low over the brow; clean-shaved and
lean about the jaw; a good singer; a good performer on
that sea-instrument, the accordion; a quick observer, a
close reasoner; when he pleased, of a really elegant
address; and when he chose, the greatest brute upon the
seas.
His usage of the men, his hazing, his bullying, his
perpetual fault-finding for no cause, his perpetual and
brutal sarcasm, might have raised a mutiny in a slave-
galley. Suppose the steersman's eye to have wandered;
"You ----, ----, little, mutton-faced Dutchman," Nares
would bawl, "you want a booting to keep you on your
course! I know a little city-front slush when I see
one. Just you glue your eye to that compass, or I'll
show you round the vessel at the butt-end of my boot."
Or suppose a hand to linger aft, whither he had perhaps
been summoned not a minute before. "Mr. Daniells, will
you oblige me by stepping clear of that main-sheet?"
the captain might begin, with truculent courtesy.
Pages:
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317