eight o'clock
muttered Ben , as he slowly trotted down the rigging . The sun came up glowing like a ball of fire . The land wind died away long before it fluttered far off from the island , and , saving the uneasy clatter at times of the loose sails and running gear , all remained as before . It was getting on toward eight o'clock , and while the cook was dishing the breakfast mess for the crew beneath an awning forward of the quarter-deck , the captain came up from his cabin below . The stalwart old seaman stepped to the bulwarks , and , shading his eyes with his hand from the glare , he took a broad glance over the water to seaward , nodded to the mate , and said , in a cheerful voice , `` Dull times , matey ! No signs of a breeze yet , eh ? '' `` No , captain , '' said Mr. Binks ; `` dead as ditch water ; not been enough air to lift a feather since you went below at four o'clock .