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It
smelled
sour
and
musty
,
and
by
the
dim
light
of
the
swinging
sea-lamp
I
saw
every
bit
of
available
wall-space
hung
deep
with
sea-boots
,
oilskins
,
and
garments
,
clean
and
dirty
,
of
various
sorts
.
These
swung
back
and
forth
with
every
roll
of
the
vessel
,
giving
rise
to
a
brushing
sound
,
as
of
trees
against
a
roof
or
wall
.
Somewhere
a
boot
thumped
loudly
and
at
irregular
intervals
against
the
wall
;
and
,
though
it
was
a
mild
night
on
the
sea
,
there
was
a
continual
chorus
of
the
creaking
timbers
and
bulkheads
and
of
abysmal
noises
beneath
the
flooring
.
The
sleepers
did
not
mind
.
There
were
eight
of
them
--
the
two
watches
below
--
and
the
air
was
thick
with
the
warmth
and
odour
of
their
breathing
,
and
the
ear
was
filled
with
the
noise
of
their
snoring
and
of
their
sighs
and
half-groans
,
tokens
plain
of
the
rest
of
the
animal-man
.
But
were
they
sleeping
?
all
of
them
?
Or
had
they
been
sleeping
?
This
was
evidently
Wolf
Larsen
's
quest
--
to
find
the
men
who
appeared
to
be
asleep
and
who
were
not
asleep
or
who
had
not
been
asleep
very
recently
.
And
he
went
about
it
in
a
way
that
reminded
me
of
a
story
out
of
Boccaccio
.
He
took
the
sea-lamp
from
its
swinging
frame
and
handed
it
to
me
.
He
began
at
the
first
bunks
forward
on
the
star-board
side
.
In
the
top
one
lay
Oofty
--
Oofty
,
a
Kanaka
and
splendid
seaman
,
so
named
by
his
mates
.
He
was
asleep
on
his
back
and
breathing
as
placidly
as
a
woman
.
One
arm
was
under
his
head
,
the
other
lay
on
top
of
the
blankets
.
Wolf
Larsen
put
thumb
and
forefinger
to
the
wrist
and
counted
the
pulse
.
In
the
midst
of
it
the
Kanaka
roused
.
He
awoke
as
gently
as
he
slept
.
There
was
no
movement
of
the
body
whatever
.
The
eyes
,
only
,
moved
.
They
flashed
wide
open
,
big
and
black
,
and
stared
,
unblinking
,
into
our
faces
.
Wolf
Larsen
put
his
finger
to
his
lips
as
a
sign
for
silence
,
and
the
eyes
closed
again
.
In
the
lower
bunk
lay
Louis
,
grossly
fat
and
warm
and
sweaty
,
asleep
unfeignedly
and
sleeping
laboriously
.
While
Wolf
Larsen
held
his
wrist
he
stirred
uneasily
,
bowing
his
body
so
that
for
a
moment
it
rested
on
shoulders
and
heels
.
His
lips
moved
,
and
he
gave
voice
to
this
enigmatic
utterance
:
"
A
shilling
's
worth
a
quarter
;
but
keep
your
lamps
out
for
thruppenny-bits
,
or
the
publicans
'
ll
shove
'em
on
you
for
sixpence
.
"
Then
he
rolled
over
on
his
side
with
a
heavy
,
sobbing
sigh
,
saying
:
"
A
sixpence
is
a
tanner
,
and
a
shilling
a
bob
;
but
what
a
pony
is
I
do
n't
know
.
"
Satisfied
with
the
honesty
of
his
and
the
Kanaka
's
sleep
,
Wolf
Larsen
passed
on
to
the
next
two
bunks
on
the
starboard
side
,
occupied
top
and
bottom
,
as
we
saw
in
the
light
of
the
sea-lamp
,
by
Leach
and
Johnson
.
