CHAPTER XII--IN THE DECK DIVISION
"Deck division turn out to swab down decks!" bellowed the boatswain'smate.
The ship had poked her nose out into the open sea by this time, the"Long Island" rising and falling gracefully on an easy swell.
"What did he say?" questioned Sam.
"I'll confess that I did not understand a word of it," answered Dan. "Idon't see why those mates cannot talk plain United States."
The command was followed by a bustling about the decks. Men hurriedlybrought out their deck swabs, implements somewhat resembling mops.Others brought pails which they filled from the taps on deck, whilestill others coupled hose to pipes along the sea gutters.
Sam felt a hand on his shoulder.
"What division are you in?" demanded a gruff voice.
"The deck division, sir."
"Then what are you doing here?" said a boatswain's mate that they hadnot seen before, glaring at them.
"I--I don't know, sir," stammered Sam.
"Will you tell us what we are to do?" spoke up Dan. "You see, it is ourfirst day on board."
"Do? Do?" exploded the mate. "Get a swab and go to work; that's what youare to do. What do you think this is, a liner where you can loll aroundand look pretty?"
"We are ready to work, if you will show us. Where will we find swabs?"questioned Dan.
The mate conducted them to a chest in which the swabs were kept.
"Take your swabs and hurry aft to the quarter-deck. That's yourstation," he directed.
By the time the boys reached the quarter-deck their mates were alreadyat work, moving along swiftly, pushing their swabs ahead of them.
"Take off your shoes. What do you mean by coming here with your shoeson?" demanded the mate.
Somewhat hesitatingly Dan and Sam removed their shoes and stockings,rolled up their trousers and joined their fellows in scrubbing down thedecks.
Sam was surly. He plainly did not like the assignment.
"This is a tough job," he confided to his companion. "I didn't join theNavy to make a washerwoman of myself."
"We have got to learn, old chap. We must take our turn. If we complain,we are not fit for the service. You may be an admiral some day; whoknows?"
"An admiral? Huh! Nice chance I've got to become an admiral--admiral ofthe scrub gang, you mean."
"Pipe down the guff," commanded the mate sternly.
"What's that mean?" muttered Sam.
"I think he means we are to stop talking."
For the next hour there was a steady splash, splash as the swabs workedback and forth over the deck, the latter running rivers of water fromhose and pail.
"Well, how do you like Field Day?" questioned the mate who had firstinstructed the lads in their duties.
It was after the mess hour and all hands were resting preparatory totaking up the duties of the afternoon.
"What's a Field Day?" asked Sam.
"When all hands turn to to clean ship. You see, ships get in rather badcondition, regarding cleanliness, after having been in port for sometime."
"Do the men like to clean ship?"
"They love it. Give a jackie a deck swab, put him in bare feet, and heis happy."
"I don't see anything to get excited about in scrubbing decks," grumbledSam.
"You will after you have been in the service longer. By the way, thesmoke lamp is lighted. Fall to, lads."
"You mean----"
"Go take your smoke. Light up your pipes."
"We do not smoke, sir," replied Dan.
"No, we don't smoke," added Sam. "But we eat."
"That is all right. A great many of the boys do not smoke these days,and it is a good thing. Now, in my time, everybody smoked. But thingshave changed on the sea as well as elsewhere."
"Attention!" called a voice.
The boys stiffened instinctively. They did not know the reason for thecommand, but experience had taught them that it was well to obey thatcommand whenever heard.
It was the captain who was approaching, on his way to the bridge.
His hand came up in salute as he glanced quickly at them.
"Carry on, lads," he said, whereat the Battleship Boys and theirshipmates resumed their interrupted conversation.
"You will find the Old Man a splendid officer and very kind to youboys," said the mate. "I've been under him for ten years, and thereain't a man in the world who's got a bigger heart than he, especiallyfor the jackies. He loves them, every one of them."
Soon after that, the boys went forward. Sitting under the shiningtwelve-inch guns, either of which would carry an eight hundred poundprojectile twelve miles, they talked in low tones until the buglesounded the command to scrub decks again.
Throughout the afternoon, until eight bells, that is four o'clock, thesteady scrub, scrub, continued, the men now and then conversing in lowtones.
"How long does this scrubbing business keep up?" asked Sam when he metthe boatswain's mate later in the afternoon.
"Let's see; you enlisted for four years?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, that's it."
"What is it?"
"The scrubbing. We are always scrubbing aboard ship; that is, when weare not painting. Do you like to paint?"
"I never tried."
"You will have a chance to do so to-morrow. We shall probably anchor offthe Delaware breakwater to-morrow morning; then all hands will turn toand paint ship. Next to scrubbing decks the jackie is never so happy aswhen he has a paint brush in his hands."
But Sam was doubtful. He decided that he would much prefer to be anofficer. When the day was ended both boys had appetites that would notbear trifling with. Mess, that night, was a real meal so far as theywere concerned. Sam had a third helping of everything on the bill.
"Have some more canned Willie," urged a shipmate.
"Willie? Who's he?"
"Willie is meat."
"Red-head, you keep on eating that way your first day out, and Pillswill have a job putting you on your feet again," suggested anothersailor.
"I'll take the chance," mumbled Sam, his mouth full of food. "It won'tbe the first chance I've taken in this line of duty, either. But who isMr. Pills?"
"'Pills,'" laughed the sailor, "is the doctor."
By the time supper had been finished the breeze had freshenedconsiderably and the "Long Island" was pitching heavily. The watch wascalled on duty about this time, but being raw men the two boys were notto have this duty put upon them just yet. Instead, they repaired to theforward deck, where they lay down against the big gun turret, to restafter their day's work.
The smoke lamp had been lighted, and many of their companions werestretched about on the deck, smoking, telling stories or discussing thelatest news that they had heard while in port. In the lighted corridorsmen might be seen sitting on the floor with their ditty boxes on theirknees, writing letters.
About this time, the band came out, electric lights were strung over thedeck on the starboard side, where the musicians would be protected fromthe strong breeze, and chairs brought out for the players.
Soon the regular evening concert began. The voices of the sailors werestilled; under the spell of the music many heads drooped, many tiredeyes closed for a few moments of delicious sleep.
"Isn't it glorious?" breathed Dan.
"It might be if things weren't so upside down," complained Sam.
"What's the matter? Aren't you feeling well?"
"I have felt better," answered Sam in a husky voice. "I guess I'll takea walk."
His walk did not last long. Sam took a turn once across the deck, thensettled down beside his companion, holding his head between his hands.
"Why, Sam, are you really ill?" questioned Dan, his voice full ofconcern.
"Ill? I think I'm going to die. Ugh!" Sam stretched out on the deck flaton his back.
"Sam Hickey, I believe you are seasick," exclaimed Dan.
Sam's only answer was a long-drawn moan.