We have had enough of action, and of motion; we
Rolled to starboard, rolled to larboard, when the surge was seething free
Where the wallowing monster spouted his foam fountains in the sea.
Let us swear an oath and keep it with an equal mind
In the hollow lotus-land to live and die reclined,
On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind.
Tennyson.

"Well, now that we are here, what?" Joe put the universal question. "I hopes we has it a bit easy for a change," he went on, seeing that no one rose to his query, and no doubt some dim, subconscious yearning must have stirred in the recesses of Joe's mind; perhaps the sight of the palms may have wakened this, for in his clumsy way he voiced the spirit of the poet. Indeed we had all of us sensed the languor of that lotus-land in the humid morning vistas of heavy tropical foliage lining the avenues of the city, and stretching far beyond into the blue-green richness of the Nuuanu Valley. After months of deep sea existence, the smell and feel of the ripe, luxurious land came to us with a powerful appeal. All of us felt this, but, sailor-like, the feeling was disguised in various ways.

"I hope them bulls aft gives us a fair deal," went on Joe. We were at breakfast, both watches together, assembled outside the fo'c'sle doors.

"Fair deal!" snapped Old Smith as he speared a spud. "Say, you young heifer, do you think you was brung all the way out to Honolulu for to loll back at your ease and eat the bread fruit, that we reads about, offen the fatness of the land, without no toil nor trouble? You'll get your damned good whack of sweatin' here. I know these ships, and it won't be just because the weather is hot, neither."

This was followed by dire predictions of hard grinding to come, ghastly prospects fathomed from the depth of experience by such masters of discouragement as Jimmy Marshall and Australia.

"Say, shut up, will you! Maybe it won't be so bad," piped Frenchy, who never liked to have his meals interrupted, especially when we were breakfasting on dry hash made with potatoes and onions, a real feed much needed by our hungry crowd. We had turned out at dawn for a hasty washdown, had put the long boat over the side, and rousing out a number of large manila hawsers, had flaked them down in the boat ready for warping. The cable was hove short and the quarter moorings were taken in. In addition to this a number of the men under the second mate had completed the rigging of the cargo gear. The carpenter, with me helping him, had rigged the dolly, wedging it under the pinrail on the starboard side just forward of the main hatch with blocks of wood and a small jackscrew. The large cargo blocks had been hooked and moused to the pendants, and the falls were rove, all for the starboard side, as the skipper had inspected the berth and that was to be our side for discharging at the Brewer Wharf.

Breakfast came as a rest, a breathing and a talking spell with a good day's work already to our credit. The change in routine, however, made the work seem easy enough, for we arose from our full night of rest with a feeling of wonderful vitality. Word came out that an island steamer would hold the berth at the Brewer Wharf until noon, and we were to warp in to the Oceanic Steamship landing to allow the port warden and the agents the opportunity to inspect the hatches and make a survey of the condition of the cargo, at the same time bringing us that much nearer our berth.

A plunge overboard in the early dawn, the last man on anchor watch having called me a half hour before the rest, put me in fine fettle. All hands were eager to get foot ashore and the prospect of tying up to the beach filled us with expectancy. The fresh grub, the full night in, and the electric atmosphere of contact with human affairs, gave us a keen sense of being again in the world of the living. After breakfast we sat around for a few precious moments smoking and yarning as we gazed toward the shore. News filtered out that the battleship Maine had been blown up in Havana harbor on the night of February 15th. War with Spain was imminent and the port of Honolulu was pregnant with impending world affairs, made even more intense by the fact that there was no cable in those days and news came only at intervals with the arrival of the mail steamers. War might be declared at any moment and rumor had it that a squadron of raiders from the Philippines might descend on the port.

The gunboat Bennington lay in the harbor with the old training ship Mohegan and constant gun drills were being gone through.

We "turned to" promptly after breakfast, and while one watch carried out the lines the other manned the capstan bars and broke out the hook as soon as the warp was thrown over a cluster of piles on the Esplanade. When the anchor came up dripping with gray mud, the long warp was carried in over the fo'c'sle head and taken to the main deck capstan and we walked the ship alongside in the good old-fashioned way.

At the string piece of the wharf there was a misunderstanding as to orders. The mate being in command took occasion to deliver his compliments to the second mate in no uncertain tones. So refreshing was the spectacle of wrath descending upon the head of the hated second mate that all hands stood idle grinning at the show. The old saying, "trouble aft; good times forward," at once went into effect. Mr. Zerk, seeing his mistake, ordered Mr. Stoddard to his room, and then turned his attention to "the people" as we hustled out the breast lines and adjusted the springs. We got the gangway over in jig time, to the great amusement of the dock loafers, and crowds of curious citizens, who had heard that a Yankee hell wagon was alongside with the bucko mate in full action.

When the gangway was lowered, Mr. Stoddard walked ashore with as much dignity as he could muster, garbed in a wrinkled brown suit and a rusty, dented derby that struck a ludicrous note amid the straw-hatted natives on the wharf.

"I hope he never come back," growled Tony, no doubt thinking of the day off the River Plate. "If ever I get him ashore——" but the Italian did not finish, for we were hustled about lifting hatch covers and setting things to rights, the deck being littered with long bights of the wet hawsers.

Native boys offered to dive for pennies, but we had none to give, and enterprising Chinamen crowded on board with baskets of fruit and hampers full of bottled pop, the whole gang being driven ashore by Mr. Zerk with his best delivery of picturesque profanity. The Kanakas on the shore started to mock him, and that made matters worse, as none of us dared crack a smile. Later on Mr. Zerk was to learn that the happy, carefree natives were an independent lot, who would work under persuasion, but were stubborn as mules when driven.

Captain Nichols came aboard with the port warden, and the top layer of cargo was examined. We carried a hundred tons of blacksmith coal on top of a general cargo, the coal being separated from what was below by old canvas and tarpaulins. One of the inspectors jumped down and tasted the coal for salt. Indeed it would have been mighty hard to tell whether the cargo had been damaged or not and, in a way, it was a bit of strategy on the part of the South Street stevedores. After some discussion, the state of things seemed to pass muster, and a great many smart looking young men from the offices of the agent came down and looked over the ship. Most of them carried papers of some sort, and in their white duck trousers and their fancy silk shirts, brilliant neckties, and spotless shoes, we seemed to behold some favored species. No doubt they looked at us too, though without interest, we being merely a lot of lean and leathery deepwater sailors dressed in common dungaree.

The captain himself was no slouch when it came to dressing and on this occasion he upheld the dignity of the ship, and the great American Merchant Service, by sporting a wine colored cutaway suit. His shoes were shined like the galley stove on a Sunday afternoon, and his heavy watch chain and fob dangled across his vest, which was buttoned to the very top in spite of the heat. Of course he wore a boiled shirt, and his black derby was of a square topped model, conservative and dignified.

AT BREWER'S WHARF

Inspection over and the island steamer out of our berth at the Brewer Wharf, we cast off and again warped our ship across the harbor. This took up the remainder of the first day. The boss stevedore came aboard and we learned that the crew was to work aboard ship, breaking out and slinging the cargo. The "hatch man" and the "dolly man" were to be natives of the shore gang; two important posts, as upon them depended largely the speed of unloading.

Word was passed forward that the captain would allow those of us who wished to, to draw against their pay on Saturday afternoon. In the meantime, it being Wednesday, we were alongside and free to explore the city in so far as such investigation could be carried on without the expenditure of coin. However we found the Chinamen ready to take "chits" for modest amounts.

After pumping out, and before knocking off for supper, the mate called Charlie Horse aft and appointed him night watchman. He was delighted with this billet, and except for a good deal of grumbling about not being told earlier and having a chance to get some sleep in the afternoon, he was well pleased. Charlie Horse had once been mate on a schooner, a fact that he never allowed us to forget, much to the amusement of such men as Australia and Hitchen. Jimmy Marshall resented all mention of it and more than once made cracks about the kind of "schooner" Charlie Horse was most familiar with. Charlie Horse, and no one ever forgot the Horse part of his name, which I believe was Horstman or something like that, never ventured an opinion without a great deal of deliberation, a trait that has much to recommend it, especially when at times he was referred to during heated arguments.

The long night shifts in Honolulu were well suited for one inclined to secluded thinking and deep contemplation. Besides this, Charlie Horse was to have the laugh on us after our second night in port.

That first blessed night of supreme rest while our ship lay in the stream, swept by a cool sea breeze, was followed by a sweltering night of discontent. Most of us turned in early, after a short stroll ashore, and in our ignorance of the customs of the place, slumbered in innocent exhaustion without a thought of the perils of the night.

Parts of New Jersey and Long Island are noted for their mosquitoes. Alaska is also somewhat remembered on this account by unfortunates who have summered along the southern shores, but Honolulu in the historic year 1898 could boast of one of the most vicious swarms of torturers lining the shores of the seven seas. We were ripe for them, our skins spiced with the salt horse and pea soup fluid that coursed through our veins. We were tired from the labors of the day, and slumbered unmoved while the enemy put all that was exposed of us to the bayonet. I lay stripped in my bunk gasping for breath, and in the morning found I was a mass of bumps, red and unsightly. The next day the china merchants along Nuuanu Street did a big business in mosquito bars, supplying us on the strength of our "chits" after the captain had verified the statement that each man was to be paid five dollars, on account, at the end of the week.