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- 4020
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:36.270Z
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- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 3964
- text
- elements, and “whistle for a wind,” the usual practice of seamen in a
calm. No fire was allowed, except for the indispensable purpose of
cooking, and heating bottles of water to toast Selvagee’s feet. He who
possessed the largest stock of vitality, stood the best chance to
escape freezing. It was horrifying. In such weather any man could have
undergone amputation with great ease, and helped take up the arteries
himself.
Indeed, this state of affairs had not lasted quite twenty-four hours,
when the extreme frigidity of the air, united to our increased tendency
to inactivity, would very soon have rendered some of us subjects for
the surgeon and his mates, had not a humane proceeding of the Captain
suddenly impelled us to vigorous exercise.
And here be it said, that the appearance of the Boat-swain, with his
silver whistle to his mouth, at the main hatchway of the gun-deck, is
always regarded by the crew with the utmost curiosity, for this
betokens that some general order is about to be promulgated through the
ship. What now? is the question that runs on from man to man. A short
preliminary whistle is then given by “Old Yarn,” as they call him,
which whistle serves to collect round him, from their various stations,
his four mates. Then Yarn, or Pipes, as leader of the orchestra, begins
a peculiar call, in which his assistants join. This over, the order,
whatever it may be, is loudly sung out and prolonged, till the remotest
corner echoes again. The Boatswain and his mates are the town-criers of
a man-of-war.
The calm had commenced in the afternoon: and the following morning the
ship’s company were electrified by a general order, thus set forth and
declared: “_D’ye hear there, for and aft! all hands skylark!_”
This mandate, nowadays never used except upon very rare occasions,
produced the same effect upon the men that Exhilarating Gas would have
done, or an extra allowance of “grog.” For a time, the wonted
discipline of the ship was broken through, and perfect license allowed.
It was a Babel here, a Bedlam there, and a Pandemonium everywhere. The
Theatricals were nothing compared with it. Then the faint-hearted and
timorous crawled to their hiding-places, and the lusty and bold shouted
forth their glee.
Gangs of men, in all sorts of outlandish habiliments, wild as those
worn at some crazy carnival, rushed to and fro, seizing upon whomsoever
they pleased—warrant-officers and dangerous pugilists excepted—pulling
and hauling the luckless tars about, till fairly baited into a genial
warmth. Some were made fast to and hoisted aloft with a will: others,
mounted upon oars, were ridden fore and aft on a rail, to the
boisterous mirth of the spectators, any one of whom might be the next
victim. Swings were rigged from the tops, or the masts; and the most
reluctant wights being purposely selected, spite of all struggles, were
swung from East to West, in vast arcs of circles, till almost
breathless. Hornpipes, fandangoes, Donnybrook-jigs, reels, and
quadrilles, were danced under the very nose of the most mighty captain,
and upon the very quarter-deck and poop. Sparring and wrestling, too,
were all the vogue; _Kentucky bites_ were given, and the _Indian hug_
exchanged. The din frightened the sea-fowl, that flew by with
accelerated wing.
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