held us at that infernal job—seven weeks of solid, grinding work. The worst of it was, that we were kept at it so breathlessly, as though our very existence were to depend on the headlong rush of our labour. And then we had fully half the stores to put away again, and the other half to transport painfully over the neck of land from the cove to the beach.
So accustomed had I become to the routine in which we were involved, so habituated to anticipating the coming day as exactly like the day that had gone, that the completion of our job caught me quite by surprise. I had thrown myself down by the fire prepared for the some old half hour of drowsy nicotine, to be followed by the accustomed heavy sleep, and the usual early rising to toil. The evening was warm; I half closed my eyes.
Handy Solomon was coming in last. Instead of dropping to his place, he straddled the fire, stretching his arms over his head. He let them fall with a sharp exhalation.
"'Lay aloft, lay aloft,' the jolly bos'n cried.
Blow high, blow low, what care we!
'Look ahead, look astern, look a-windward, look a-lee.'
Down on the coast of the high Barbare-e-e."
The effect was electrical. We all sprang to our feet and fell to talking at once.
"By God, we're through!" cried Pulz. "I'd clean forgot it!"
