An excellent dinner was cooked and served that day.  The lobscouse made of pork, fowl and sliced potatoes was a dish to remember.  But the former cook got a line of food calculated to assist him in the performance of his singular duty.  Happiness returned to the ship and Solomon was cheered when at length he came out of the galley.  Officers and passengers rendered him more homage after that than they paid to the rich and famous Mr. Girard who was among their number.  That day this notice was written on the blackboard: 

“Thomas Crowpot has been engaged to do all the swearing that’s necessary on this voyage.  Any one who needs his services will find him on the forward deck.  Small and large jobs will be attended to while you wait.”

2

Often in calm weather Jack and Solomon amused themselves and the other passengers with pistol practise by tossing small objects into the air and shooting at them over the ship’s side.  They rarely missed even the smallest object thrown.  Jack was voted the best marksman of the two when he crushed with his bullet four black walnuts out of five thrown by Mr. Girard.

In the course of the voyage they overhauled The Star, a four-masted ship bound from New York to Dover.  For hours the two vessels were so close that the passengers engaged in a kind of battle.  Those on The Star began it by hurling turnips at the men on the other ship who responded with a volley of apples.  Solomon discerned on the deck of the stranger Captain Preston and an English officer of the name of Hawk whom he had known at Oswego and hailed them.  Then said Solomon: 

“It’s a ship load o’ Tories who’ve had enough of Ameriky.  They’s a cuss on that tub that I helped put a coat o’ tar an’ feathers on in the Ohio kentry.  He’s the one with the black pipe in his mouth.  I don’t know his name but they use to call him Slops—­the dirtiest, low-downdest, damn Tory traitor that ever lived.  Helped the Injuns out thar in the West.  See that ’ere black pipe?  Allus carries it in his mouth ‘cept when he’s eatin’.  I guess he goes to sleep with it.  It’s one o’ the features o’ his face.  We tarred him plenty now you hear to me.”

That evening a boat was lowered and the Captain of The Snow crossed a hundred yards of quiet sea to dine with the Captain of The Star in the cabin of the latter.  Next day a stiff wind came out of the west.  All sail was spread, the ships began to jump and gore the waves and The Star ran away from the smaller ship and was soon out of sight.  Weeks of rough going followed.  Meanwhile Solomon stuck to his task.  Every one was sick but Jack and the officers, and there was not much cooking to be done.

Because he had to take off his coat while he was working in the galley, Solomon gave the precious letter into Jack’s keeping.

Near the end of the sixth week at sea they spied land.

“We cheered, for the ocean had shown us a tiger’s heart,” the young man wrote.  “For weeks it had leaped and struck at us and tumbled us about.  The crossing is more like hardship than anything that has happened to me.  One woman died and was buried at sea.  A man had his leg broken by being thrown violently against the bulwarks and the best of us were bumped a little.