Four months later the Chrysolite was unloading a general cargo in
Mauritius harbour. Captain Anderson had thought it over.
The quay was quickly covered with Manchester bales and Birmingham
cases; and it was not long before the tackle at the main-yard arm
was set a-clicking, as the baskets of sand ballast were hove up
to be poured into the empty hold. No such luxuries were there as
steam-winches; not any of those modern appliances for lightening
labour. Instead, five or six hands plied the ponderous work at
the winch handles, the labour being substantially aggravated by
the heat of a vertical sun. A spell at the orthodox hand-winch in
the tropics is an ordeal not to be lightly spoken of, and sailors
have the very strongest objection to the work. It requires the
utmost vigilance on the part of the captain, therefore, to prevent
the feebler spirits from deserting. He was able, however, to reckon
a full crew as he steered out of Port Louis harbour and shaped his
course for Ceylon.
Some of the hands had grumbled at not having more liberty to go
ashore. In an excess of passion, Anderson made answer:
"To your kennels, you dogs! I'll put you ashore soon enough, and
I'll warrant you'll stay there longer than you care for.
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