he had heard, and said that he did not believe that they would try to do any such thing as was intimated; that they had always been good men,—­ obedient, and knew their duty, and he had no fault to find with them, and asked them what they had to complain of; said that no one could say that he was slow to carry sail (which was true enough), and that, as soon as he thought it was safe and proper, he should make sail.  He added a few words about their duty in their present situation, and sent them forward, saying that he should take no further notice of the matter; but, at the same time, told the carpenter to recollect whose power he was in, and that if he heard another word from him he would have cause to remember him to the day of his death.

This language of the captain had a very good effect upon the crew, and they returned quietly to their duty.

For two days more the wind blew from the southward and eastward, and in the short intervals when it was fair, the ice was too thick to run; yet the weather was not so dreadfully bad, and the crew had watch and watch.  I still remained in my berth, fast recovering, yet not well enough to go safely on deck.  And I should have been perfectly useless; for, from having eaten nothing for nearly a week, except a little rice which I forced into my mouth the last day or two, I was as weak as an infant.  To be sick in a forecastle is miserable indeed.  It is the worst part of a dog’s life, especially in bad weather.  The forecastle, shut up tight to keep out the water and cold air; the watch either on deck or asleep in their berths; no one to speak to; the pale light of the single lamp, swinging to and fro from the beam, so dim that one can scarcely see, much less read, by it; the water dropping from the beams and carlines and running down the sides, and the forecastle so wet and dark and cheerless, and so lumbered up with chests and wet clothes, that sitting up is worse than lying in the berth.  These are some of the evils.  Fortunately, I needed no help from any one, and no medicine; and if I had needed help I don’t know where I should have found it.  Sailors are willing enough, but it is true, as is often said,—­ no one ships for nurse on board a vessel.  Our merchant ships are always undermanned, and if one man is lost by sickness, they cannot spare another to take care of him.  A sailor is always presumed to be well, and if he’s sick he’s a poor dog.  One has to stand his wheel, and another his lookout, and the sooner he gets on deck again the better.

Accordingly, as soon as I could possibly go back to my duty, I put on my thick clothes and boots and southwester, and made my appearance on deck.  I had been but a few days below, yet everything looked strangely enough.  The ship was cased in ice,—­ decks, sides, masts, yards, and rigging.  Two close-reefed topsails were all the sail she had on, and every sail and rope was frozen so stiff in its place that it seemed as though it would be impossible to start anything.