“You’re like bloody starving beggars the way you’re stuffing it down. What do you mean by filling up your belfies when you’ve done no proper work!”
Then, glancing from the upper to the lower berths, he sidled out again.
“Has that fellow got the right to speak to us like that?” muttered one student, worn to a shadow with sea-sickness and overwork.
“Ah, he’s Asakawa, and he just about owns the ship.”
“The Emperor’s above the clouds, so whatever he does doesn’t hurt us, but Asakawa’s here with us all the time.”
From a different direction another man spoke, sticking out his lips: “He’s as mean as hell!” he said. “What’s a plate or two of rice anyhow! Let’s set on to him!”
“That’s the stuff. It’d be better still if you said it to his face.”
They were all angry but they could do nothing, so they laughed.
Late at night the boss came down once more while they were asleep. Catching hold of the rails to support himself, he walked along, shining a lantern on to each fisherman. He turned round heads, which looked like scattered pumpkins, and examined them by the light of the lantern. No one would have awoken even had they been kicked. When the boss came to the end, he stood still for a moment, wondering what to do next, but he soon walked off toward the cook’s galley next door.
