CHAPTER XXXII.

  A DISH OF DUNDERFUNK.

  In men-of-war, the space on the uppermost deck, round about themain-mast, is the Police-office, Court-house, and yard of execution,where all charges are lodged, causes tried, and punishmentadministered. In frigate phrase, to be _brought up to the mast_, isequivalent to being presented before the grand-jury, to see whether atrue bill will be found against you.

  From the merciless, inquisitorial _baiting_, which sailors, chargedwith offences, too often experience _at the mast_, that vicinity isusually known among them as the _bull-ring_.

  The main-mast, moreover, is the only place where the sailor can holdformal communication with the captain and officers. If any one has beenrobbed; if any one has been evilly entreated; if any one's characterhas been defamed; if any one has a request to present; if any one hasaught important for the executive of the ship to know--straight to themain-mast he repairs; and stands there--generally with his hatoff--waiting the pleasure of the officer of the deck, to advance andcommunicate with him. Often, the most ludicrous scenes occur, and themost comical complaints are made.

  One clear, cold morning, while we were yet running away from the Cape,a raw boned, crack-pated Down Easter, belonging to the Waist, made hisappearance at the mast, dolefully exhibiting a blackened tin pan,bearing a few crusty traces of some sort of a sea-pie, which had beencooked in it.

  "Well, sir, what now?" said the Lieutenant of the Deck, advancing.

  "They stole it, sir; all my nice _dunderfunk_, sir; they did, sir,"whined the Down Easter, ruefully holding up his pan. "Stole your_dunderfunk!_ what's that?"

  "_Dunderfunk_, sir, _dunderfunk_; a cruel nice dish as ever man putinto him."

  "Speak out, sir; what's the matter?"

  "My _dunderfunk_, sir--as elegant a dish of _dunderfunk_ as you eversee, sir--they stole it, sir!"

  "Go forward, you rascal!" cried the Lieutenant, in a towering rage, "orelse stop your whining. Tell me, what's the matter?"

  "Why, sir, them 'ere two fellows, Dobs and Hodnose, stole my_dunderfunk_."

  "Once more, sir, I ask what that _dundledunk_ is? Speak!" "As cruel anice----"

  "Be off, sir! sheer!" and muttering something about _non composmentis_, the Lieutenant stalked away; while the Down Easter beat amelancholy retreat, holding up his pan like a tambourine, and makingdolorous music on it as he went.

  "Where are you going with that tear in your eye, like a travellingrat?" cried a top-man.

  "Oh! he's going home to Down East," said another; "so far eastward, youknow, _shippy_, that they have to pry up the sun with a handspike."

  To make this anecdote plainer, be it said that, at sea, the monotonousround of salt beef and pork at the messes of the sailors--where butvery few of the varieties of the season are to be found--induces themto adopt many contrivances in order to diversify their meals. Hence thevarious sea-rolls, made dishes, and Mediterranean pies, well known bymen-of-war's-men--_Scouse, Lob-scouse, Soft-Tack, Soft-Tommy,Skillagalee, Burgoo, Dough-boys, Lob-Dominion, Dog's-Body_, and lastly,and least known, _Dunderfunk_; all of which come under the generaldenomination of _Manavalins_.

  _Dunderfunk_ is made of hard biscuit, hashed and pounded, mixed withbeef fat, molasses, and water, and baked brown in a pan. And to thosewho are beyond all reach of shore delicacies, this _dunderfunk_, in thefeeling language of the Down Easter, is certainly "_a cruel nice dish_."

  Now the only way that a sailor, after preparing his _dunderfunk_, couldget it cooked on board the Neversink, was by slily going to _OldCoffee_, the ship's cook, and bribing him to put it into his oven. Andas some such dishes or other are well known to be all the time in theoven, a set of unprincipled gourmands are constantly on the look-outfor the chance of stealing them. Generally, two or three leaguetogether, and while one engages _Old Coffee_ in some interestingconversation touching his wife and family at home, another snatches thefirst thing he can lay hands on in the oven, and rapidly passes it tothe third man, who at his earliest leisure disappears with it.

  In this manner had the Down Easter lost his precious pie, and afterwardfound the empty pan knocking about the forecastle.