Two Years Before the Mast
though we were just there, though it must still be the greater part of
a year before we could see Boston.
I spent one evening, as had been my custom, at the oven with the
Sandwich Islanders; but it was far from being the usual noisy, laughing
time. It has been said, that the greatest curse to each of the South
Sea islands, was the first man who discovered it; and every one who
knows anything of the history of our commerce in those parts, knows how
much truth there is in this; and that the white men, with their vices,
have brought in diseases before unknown to the islanders, and which are
now sweeping off the native population of the Sandwich Islands, at the
rate of one fortieth of the entire population annually. They seem to
be a doomed people. The curse of a people calling themselves Christian,
seems to follow them everywhere; and even here, in this obscure place,
lay two young islanders, whom I had left strong, active young men, in
the vigor of health, wasting away under a disease, which they would
never have known but for their intercourse with Christianized Mexico
and people from Christian America. One of them was not so ill; and was
moving about, smoking his pipe, and talking, and trying to keep up his
spirits; but the other, who was my friend, and Aikane--Hope, was the
most dreadful object I had ever seen in my life: his eyes sunken and
dead, his cheeks fallen in against his teeth, his hands looking like
claws; a dreadful cough, which seemed to rack his whole shattered
system, a hollow whispering voice, and an entire inability to move
himself. There he lay, upon a mat, on the ground, which was the only
floor of the oven, with no medicine, no comforts, and no one to care
for, or help him, but a few Kanakas, who were willing enough, but could
do nothing. The sight of him made me sick, and faint. Poor fellow!
During the four months that I lived upon the beach, we were continually
together, both in work, and in our excursions in the woods, and upon
the water. I really felt a strong affection for him, and preferred him
to any of my own countrymen there; and I believe there was nothing
which he would not have done for me. When I came into the oven he
looked at me, held out his hand, and said, in a low voice, but with a
delightful smile, "Aloha, Aikane! Aloha nui!" I comforted him as well
as I could, and promised to ask the captain to help him from the
medicine-chest, and told him I had no doubt the captain would do what
he could for him, as he had worked in our employ for several years,
both on shore and aboard our vessels on the coast. I went aboard and
turned into my hammock, but I could not sleep.
Thinking, from my education, that I must have some knowledge of
medicine, the Kanakas had insisted upon my examining him carefully; and
it was not a sight to be forgotten. One of our crew, an old
man-of-war's man, of twenty years' standing, who had seen sin and
suffering in every shape, and whom I afterwards took to see Hope, said
it was dreadfully worse than anything he had ever seen, or even dreamed
of. He was horror-struck, as his countenance showed; yet he had been
among the worst cases in our naval hospitals. I could not get the
thought of the poor fellow out of my head all night; his horrible
suffering, and his apparently inevitable, horrible end.
The next day I told the captain of Hope's state, and asked him if he
would be so kind as to go and see him.
"What? a d----d Kanaka?"
"Yes, sir," said I; "but he has worked four years for our vessels, and
has been in the employ of our owners, both on shore and aboard."
"Oh! he be d----d!" said the captain, and walked off.
This same man died afterwards of a fever on the deadly coast of
Sumatra; and God grant he had better care taken of him in his
sufferings, than he ever gave to any one else! Finding nothing was to
be got from the captain, I consulted an old shipmate, who had much
experience in these matters, and got from him a recipe, which he always
kept by him. With this I went to the mate, and told him the case. Mr.
Brown had been entrusted with the general care of the medicine-chest,
and although a driving fellow, and a taut hand in a watch, he had
good feelings, and was always inclined to be kind to the sick. He said
that Hope was not strictly one of the crew, but as he was in our employ
when taken sick, he should have the medicines; and he got them and gave
them to me, with leave to go ashore at night. Nothing could exceed the
delight of the Kanakas, when I came bringing the medicines. All their
terms of affection and gratitude were spent upon me, and in a sense
wasted, (for I could not understand half of them,) yet they made all
known by their manner. Poor Hope was so much revived at the bare
thought of anything's being done for him, that he was already stronger
and better. I knew he must die as he was, and he could but die under
the medicines, and any chance was worth running. An oven, exposed to
every wind and change of weather, is no place to take calomel; but
nothing else would do, and strong remedies must be used, or he was
gone. The applications, internal and external, were powerful, and I
gave him strict directions to keep warm and sheltered, telling him it
was his only chance for life. Twice, after this, I visited him, having
only time to run up, while waiting in the boat. He promised to take
his medicines regularly until we returned, and insisted upon it that he
was doing better.
We got under weigh on the 10th, bound up to San Pedro, and had three
days of calm and head winds, making but little progress. On the fourth,
we took a stiff south-easter, which obliged us to reef our topsails.
While on the yard, we saw a sail on the weather bow, and in about half
an hour, passed the Ayacucho, under double-reefed topsails, beating
down to San Diego. Arrived at San Pedro on the fourth day, and came-to
in the old place, a league from shore, with no other vessel in port,
and the prospect of three weeks, or more, of dull life, rolling goods
up a slippery hill, carrying hides on our heads over sharp stones, and,
perhaps, slipping for a south-easter.
There was but one man in the only house here, and him I shall always
remember as a good specimen of a California ranger. He had been a
tailor in Philadelphia, and getting intemperate and in debt, he joined
a trapping party and went to the Columbia river, and thence down to
Monterey, where he spent everything, left his party, and came to the
Pueblo de los Angelos, to work at his trade. Here he went dead to
leeward among the pulperias, gambling rooms, etc., and came down to San
Pedro, to be moral by being out of temptation. He had been in the
house several weeks, working hard at his trade, upon orders which he
had brought with him, and talked much of his resolution, and opened his
heart to us about his past life. After we had been here some time, he
started off one morning, in fine spirits, well dressed, to carry the
clothes which he had been making to the pueblo, and saying he would
bring back his money and some fresh orders the next day. The next day
came, and a week passed, and nearly a fortnight, when, one day, going
ashore, we saw a tall man, who looked like our friend the tailor,
getting out of the back of an Indian's cart, which had just come down
from the pueblo. He stood for the house, but we bore up after him; when
finding that we were overhauling him, he hove-to and spoke us. Such a
sight I never saw before. Barefooted, with an old pair of trowsers
tied round his waist by a piece of green hide, a soiled cotton shirt,
and a torn Indian hat; "cleaned out," to the last reál, and completely
"used up." He confessed the whole matter; acknowledged that he was on
his back; and now he had a prospect of a fit of the horrors for a week,
and of being worse than useless for months. This is a specimen of the
life of half of the Americans and English who are adrift over the whole
of California. One of the same stamp was Russell, who was master of
the hide-house at San Diego, while I was there, and afterwards turned
away for his misconduct. He spent his own money and nearly all the
stores among the half-bloods upon the beach, and being turned away,
went up to the Presidio, where he lived the life of a desperate
"loafer," until some rascally deed sent him off "between two days,"
with men on horseback, dogs, and Indians in full cry after him, among
the hills. One night, he burst into our room at the hide-house,
breathless, pale as a ghost, covered with mud, and torn by thorns and
briers, nearly naked, and begged for a crust of bread, saying he had
neither eaten nor slept for three days. Here was the great Mr.
Russell, who a month before was "Don Tomàs," "Capitán de la playa,"
"Maéstro de la casa," etc., etc., begging food and shelter of Kanakas
and sailors. He staid with us till he gave himself up, and was dragged
off to the calabozo.
Another, and a more amusing specimen, was one whom we saw at San
Francisco. He had been a lad on board the ship California, in one of
her first voyages, and ran away and commenced Ranchéro, gambling,
stealing horses, etc. He worked along up to San Francisco, and was
living on a rancho near there, while we were in port. One morning,
when we went ashore in the boat, we found him at the landing-place,
dressed in California style,--a wide hat, faded velveteen trowsers, and
a blanket cloak thrown over his shoulders--and wishing to go off in the
boat, saying he was going to paseár with our captain a little. We had
many doubts of the reception he would meet with; but he seemed to think
himself company for any one. We took him aboard, landed him at the
gangway, and went about our work, keeping an eye upon the quarter-deck,
where the captain was walking. The lad went up to him with the most
complete assurance, and raising his hat, wished him a good afternoon.
Captain T---- turned round, looked at him from head to foot, and saying
coolly, "Hallo! who the h--- are you?" kept on his walk. This was a
rebuff not to be mistaken, and the joke passed about among the crew by
winks and signs, at different parts of the ship. Finding himself
disappointed at headquarters, he edged along forward to the mate, who
was overseeing some work on the forecastle, and tried to begin a yarn;
but it would not do. The mate had seen the reception he had met with
aft, and would have no cast-off company. The second mate was aloft,
and the third mate and myself were painting the quarter-boat, which
hung by the davits, so he betook himself to us; but we looked at one
another, and the officer was too busy to say a word. From us, he went
to one and another of the crew, but the joke had got before him, and he
found everybody busy and silent. Looking over the rail a few moments
afterward, we saw him at the galley-door talking to the cook. This was
a great comedown, from the highest seat in the synagogue to a seat in
the galley with the black cook. At night, too, when supper was called,
he stood in the waist for some time, hoping to be asked down with the
officers, but they went below, one after another, and left him. His
next chance was with the carpenter and sail-maker, and he lounged round
the after hatchway until the last had gone down. We had now had fun
enough out of him, and taking pity on him, offered him a pot of tea,
and a cut at the kid, with the rest, in the forecastle. He was hungry,
and it was growing dark, and he began to see that there was no use in
playing the caballero any longer, and came down into the forecastle,
put into the "grub" in sailor's style, threw off all his airs, and
enjoyed the joke as much as any one; for a man must take a joke among
sailors. He gave us the whole account of his adventures in the