Rushing in all round, they hauled the savage off, but not until repeatedly struck on the head would he let go.
His rage was now absolutely demoniac; he lay glaring and writhing on the deck, without attempting to rise.

Cowed, as they supposed he was, from his attitude, the men, rejoiced at seeing him thus humbled, left him; after rating him, in sailor style, for a cannibal and a coward.
Ben was attended to, and led below.
Soon after this, the rest also, with but few exceptions, retired into the forecastle; and having been up nearly all the previous night, they quickly dropped about the chests and rolled into the hammocks.
In an hour's time, not a sound could be heard in that part of the ship.
Before Bembo was dragged away, the mate had in vain endeavoured to separate the combatants, repeatedly striking the Mowree; but the seamen interposing, at last kept him off.
And intoxicated as he was, when they dispersed, he knew enough to charge the steward--a steady seaman be it remembered--with the present safety of the ship; and then went below, when he fell directly into another drunken sleep.
Having remained upon deck with the doctor some time after the rest had gone below, I was just on the point of following him down, when I saw the Mowree rise, draw a bucket of water, and holding it high above his head, pour its contents right over him.

This he repeated several times.

There was nothing very peculiar in the act, but something else about him struck me.

However, I thought no more of it, but descended the scuttle.
After a restless nap, I found the atmosphere of the forecastle so close, from nearly all the men being down at the same time, that I hunted up an old pea-jacket and went on deck; intending to sleep it out there till morning.