But it seemed as if the mere sense of our situation, should have been sufficient to prevent the like conduct in all on board our craft.
Samoa's aspect, sleeping at the tiller, was almost appalling.

His large opal eyes were half open; and turned toward the light of the binnacle, gleamed between the lids like bars of flame.

And added to all, was his giant stature and savage lineaments.
It was in vain, that I remonstrated, begged, or threatened: the occasional drowsiness of my fellow-voyagers proved incurable.

To no purpose, I reminded my Viking that sleeping in the night-watch in a craft like ours, was far different from similar heedlessness on board the Arcturion.

For there, our place upon the ocean was always known, and our distance from land; so that when by night the seamen were permitted to be drowsy, it was mostly, because the captain well knew that strict watchfulness could be dispensed with.
Though in all else, the Skyeman proved a most faithful ally, in this one thing he was either perversely obtuse, or infatuated.