A sickening odor rose from the half-cured skins as they were swung up from boats alongside and lowered into the hold, and in spite of the sharp orders of the mates, the crew worked slowly and listlessly.
"This is awful, Tom," a lad of about sixteen, in the uniform of a midshipman, said to another of about the same age as, after the last boat had left the ship's sides, they leaned against the bulwarks; "what with the heat, and what with the stench, and what with the captain and the first mate, life is not worth living.

However, only another two or three days and we shall be full up, and once off we shall get rid of a good deal of the heat and most of the smell." "Yes, we shall be better off in those respects, Dick, but unfortunately we shan't leave the captain and mate behind." "No, I don't know which I like worst of them.

It is a contrast to our last sip, Tom.

What a good time we had of it on board the _Zebra_! The captain was a brick, and the mates were all good fellows.

In fact, we have always been fortunate since the day we first came on board together up to now.