Chapter Eight.
The “Kingfisher” of Nantucket.
It was on the third day of our repulsive work among the decaying oysters that the expected happened. We were all assiduously at work as usual, groping with our fingers among the rotting fish for the sudden sensation of hardness which proclaimed the presence of the gems, when one of the party, straightening himself up for a moment to take the kinks out of his backbone, let out a sudden yell of: “Sail ho!”
“Where away?” demanded the skipper, starting to his feet and staring about him; and in a moment all hands of us were standing up and following the “Old Man’s” example. There was no need for a reply to the skipper’s question, for we had but to look to see the stranger instantly—a topsail-schooner, about five miles distant, coming up from the southward, close-hauled, under a press of sail.
Brown stood staring intently at her for a full minute or more; then he shouted:
“Yes, that’s the gol-darned Kingfisher, right enough, ne’er a doubt of it! All hands to the boat, and let’s get off to the Marthy. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if that Slocum and his crowd tries to make trouble when they find us here before ’em.”
“Why do you think so, Captain?” demanded Cunningham. “Surely there are enough oysters here for both of us, aren’t there?”
“Well, yes, I reckon there are,” agreed Brown, somewhat doubtfully. “But I guess Slocum won’t think so; he’ll want the whole blamed lot.”
I thought this rather good, remembering, as I did, that previous to our arrival, and before we knew how extensive was the bed, the skipper had been straining every nerve to reach the island before his rival, with the avowed intention of sweeping the shoal clean if he could before the arrival of the Kingfisher. I said nothing, however, but, seizing the bucket containing the pearls which I had gathered during the morning, hastened away with the others toward where the longboat was moored. The moment that the last man was in we cast off, threw out our oars, and gave way for our own vessel, for the stranger was coming up hand over fist, and Brown was very anxious to be on board before the arrival of the Kingfisher, in order that he might be fully prepared for all eventualities.
We reached the Martha a few minutes before the stranger hove in stays to fetch the passage through the reef; and Brown at once went below, taking with him a couple of hands, routed out the arms and ammunition chests, and served out to each man a gun, a brace of Colt revolvers, and a cutlass, together with a liberal supply of ammunition for the firearms, at the same time instructing us to load our weapons and have them ready for instant use, but to keep them out of sight until it became apparent that they would be required.
By the time that our preparations were complete, the stranger—now identifiable beyond all question as the Kingfisher, since she carried her name legibly painted in white letters upon her head-boards—had passed through the reef and, taking in her canvas as she came, was steering for a berth about a cable’s length from where the Martha lay; and a few minutes later she put down her helm, came head to wind, and presently let go her anchor. Meanwhile the skipper, Cunningham, and I had been diligently taking stock of her through our glasses, with the object of ascertaining how many hands she carried, and we agreed that there were but eight in sight, which, counting also the cook and steward, gave her a complement of ten all told against fourteen of us, which fact caused our skipper to chuckle with satisfaction.
That we were not to be kept long in suspense with regard to the intentions of the newcomers soon became sufficiently evident, for the Kingfisher had scarcely swung to her anchor when a dory was launched, and, with three people in her, two at the oars and the third sitting in the sternsheets, came pulling toward the Martha Brown.
Five minutes later the little craft swept up alongside, one of our people hospitably dropped a rope’s end into her to hang on by, and the man in the sternsheets—a long, angular, big-boned individual, about six feet three inches in height, apparently about thirty-four years of age, with a thick thatch of reddish-brown hair, and an equally thick beard and moustache of the same colour, and attired, despite the intense heat, in a heavy pilot cloth jacket and trousers, a blue worsted jersey, a fur cap, and sea-boots reaching above his knees—uncoiling his long limbs, rose in the boat, and, with a nimbleness strangely at variance with his ungainly appearance, climbed the side, swung himself in over our low rail, and flung a quick, enquiring glance round the deck.
“Mornin’!” he remarked briefly in a surly tone of voice to the skipper, Cunningham, and myself, as we stepped forward to meet him. “I see this here schooner’s the Marthy Brown o’ Baltimore. Which o’ you ’uns is the cap’n of her?”
“I am,” answered our “Old Man,” stepping forward. “Name of Ephraim Brown. This here is my first officer, Mr Mark Temple, and this is Mr Cunnin’ham, my second officer.”
“Jerushy! First and second officers, eh?” exclaimed the stranger in a fine tone of irony. “My, but you air puttin’ on style, Cap’n, and no mistake! I’m plain Abner Slocum, cap’n and owner of the schooner Kingfisher, sailin’ out o’ Nantucket; and my first, second, third, and fourth mate is all rolled into one under the name o’ Dan’l Greene. That’s him—the red-headed feller in the Scotch cap helpin’ t’other ’un to roll up my schooner’s mains’l. Well, Cap’n Brown, I’ve took the liberty to come aboard your ship to ask what you happens to be doin’ here, if I ain’t presumin’ too much.”
“May I ask what business that is of your’n, Cap’n—eh—um—Slocum?” demanded Brown blandly.
“Cert’nly you may,” retorted Slocum, with elaborate politeness, which, however, vanished the next instant. “An’ it won’t take me half a second to answer ye,” he continued truculently. “It’s business o’ mine because this ’ere island, and everything in the sea for three mile round it, happens to belong to me—left me by my deceased brother-in-law, Abr’am Johnson. And I don’t want, and won’t have—you hear me!—won’t have nobody trespassin’ on my property. So the sooner you ’uns gits, the better it’ll be for all parties. And now I hopes you understan’s. And there’s another thing. By the all-fired smell o’ that island I reckon that you’ve been poachin’ on my pearl-’yster bank. Now, I dunno whether you knows it or not, but by the laws of the United States of Ameriky pearl poachin’ is felony, and the poacher is liable to be put away for ten years or so in Sing Sing. But I don’t want to be hard upon nobody; so if you’ll just hand over to me the pearls that you’ve poached, I’m agreeable to let ye all go free, and say nothin’ more about it.”
“You don’t say!” ejaculated Brown, apparently overwhelmed by such royal clemency. “Well, then, I guess— But stop a minute; I sure was very near forgettin’ something. You say that this here island’s yours, eh? Well, then, I s’pose you’ve got your title deeds and all that to prove it, eh?”
“Title deeds be—” began Slocum, with an ugly snarl. Then he pulled himself up sharp. “I sure have, to hum,” he answered. “But natchrally I didn’t bring sich vallyable papers along with me, for fear of losin’ ’em. And then again I didn’t expect to find nobody here to dispute my title. See?”
“No,” said Brown, “I don’t see; and that’s a solid fact. What I do see is somethin’ like this here. I’m cruisin’ in the Pacific in this here schooner o’ mine, and one day we sights this here island, and comes in to have a look at it. We lowers a boat and pulls ashore, and what do we find? We finds that the place is uninhabited, with nary a sign that anybody’s ever set eyes on it before. Anyway, it’s uninhabited, and it’s miles and miles away from any other land; therefore it don’t belong to nobody, and accordin’ly I takes possession of it. So you see, Cap’n, you’re all wrong about it bein’ your’n. It’s mine; and if I was measly and cantankerous I’d prob’ly order you to take your schooner outer my harbour at once. But I ain’t that sorter man: I’m lib’ral and free-handed to a fault; I ain’t no greedy grab-all, not by a long chalk, so you may stay in this here harbour o’ mine so long as you’ve a mind to. But, you understan’, you ain’t none of yer to go ashore without my leave; an’—”
“Oh, shucks!” interrupted Slocum in sudden fury. “What d’ye mean by givin’ me that sort o’ mush? I tell ye that this island is mine, and I means to have it. And I means to have all the pearls that you’ve poached, too; and look ’e here, Mister, if you ain’t out o’ sight before nightfall, I’ll—I’ll—”
“Yes; you’ll—what?” demanded the skipper calmly, seeing that the other hesitated.
“Why, I’ll—I’ll blow you and your blamed schooner and all hands of you to blazes!” exploded Slocum.
“You will, eh?” retorted Brown, slipping his right hand casually into his jacket pocket. “Then—hands up, you skunk! hands up; and look spry about it, or by the living Jingo I’ll shoot! Up with ’em, I say. Ah! that’s better, a good deal!” as Slocum slowly and reluctantly raised his hands above his head in response to our skipper’s command, emphasised by a levelled revolver which the “Old Man” had produced so rapidly that it was quite like a conjuring trick.
“Now, Mr Temple,” continued Brown, addressing me but keeping his eye unwaveringly upon his prisoner, “just you go to the rail and persuade them two in the dory to come up on deck; persuade ’em with yer gun if you can’t do it any other way. I guess we’ll have to go on usin’ force, now that this cantankerous cuss have obliged us to begin. And you, Mr Cunnin’ham, be good enough to pass the word for the carpenter to lay aft wi’ three sets of irons.”
“Here, I say, you monkey-faced old pirate, whatcher givin’ us? Whatcher mean by callin’ for irons? You don’t mean ter say you’re goin’ to make a prisoner of me, do yer?” demanded Slocum, dropping his hands in his fury.
“Hands up!” snapped the skipper, quick as lightning. Then, as Slocum threw them up again, he replied:
“Not goin’ to make a prisoner of ye, eh? You bet I sure am, then, you and the hull of your crowd, since you’ve come here spoilin’ for trouble. But I don’t want no trouble myself, I ain’t that sorter man; so I’m goin’ to keep you ’uns safe in irons until I’ve finished my business here, a’ter which I’ll release ye, and you can do what yer like.”
“The fust thing I’ll do when you release me is to blow the blamed head off your shoulders, ye all-fired pirate,” snapped Slocum viciously.
“Put this man in irons,” ordered Brown, as the carpenter came along, and the next minute Slocum was fettered and Chips was overhauling him to make sure that he had no concealed weapons about him. Meanwhile I had succeeded in “persuading” the two men who constituted the crew of the dory to leave their boat and come up on deck, and they, too, were promptly clapped in irons. Thus we already had in our power three of the Kingfisher’s complement of ten men all told, leaving seven, as opposed to our own fourteen.
“Take ’em away and confine ’em below in the fore peak,” ordered Brown. And when this was done, “I guess there’s no sense in makin’ two bites at a cherry,” observed the skipper. “We can’t spare the time to fool around watchin’ those fellers; so have the longboat hauled alongside, and let all hands except the cook and the cabin boy take their guns and cutlasses and get down into her. We’ll just meander across and take that there Kingfisher right away, so savin’ a heap o’ trouble in the long run. And while we’re doing that, ‘the Doctor’ and the boy’ll stay here and keep an eye on the chaps down below.”
So said, so done; we secured possession of the Kingfisher without any difficulty, for although her crew guessed our errand the moment that they saw us coming, they could not very well help themselves, such weapons as the Nantucket craft was provided with being stowed away and locked up in Slocum’s own cabin, where the crew could not get at them except by breaking down the door. But apart from that, they had no stomach for fighting in the absence of Slocum, and they surrendered immediately upon being ordered to do so, although, it must be confessed, with not too good a grace. Having thus secured possession of the Kingfisher, the next thing that we did was to give her another fifty fathoms of cable, so that she would ride easily and without being watched in any weather that we were likely to have; after which her crew, having previously been searched and deprived of everything that could by any chance be utilised as a weapon, were ordered down into the longboat, taken aboard the Martha, clapped in irons, and put down below into the fore peak along with Slocum and the two men out of the dory, one of our own men being detailed each day afterwards to mount guard over them while the rest of us resumed operations ashore.
It cost us three weeks of strenuous work to complete the examination of, and extract the pearls from the oysters that it had taken us a fortnight to fish up from the bottom of the sea, and when we had finished even the skipper confessed himself satisfied, so great had been our success. Yet, although Brown was so far satisfied that he was content to leave the remainder of the oysters to Slocum, he could not bring himself to leave behind the empty shells from which we had extracted the pearls; pearl shell, he informed us, was worth so many dollars—I forget how many—per ton in New York, and it would pay him well to take in all that we had—discarding an equal weight of ballast—and carry it there. The task of cleaning, carrying on board, and storing this shell—including the turning out of cargo and the discharge of ballast to make room for it—occupied us another fortnight; consequently by the time that all was done and we were ready to sail again we had been close upon two months at the island. Then, upon a certain lovely morning, we loosed and set our canvas and hove short; after which the crew of the Kingfisher, Slocum included, were brought up on deck, ordered over the side into the longboat, and transferred to their own vessel, one man being released from his irons as soon as the transfer had been effected, in order that he in turn might release the others. And while this was being done the longboat returned to the Martha Brown and was hoisted in; after which we tripped our anchor, hove it up to the bows, and stood out to sea.
The ensuing three months were more or less pleasantly and uneventfully spent in cruising hither and thither among the various groups of islands, seeking sandalwood, some of the natives proving exceedingly friendly and agreeable to deal with, while others were very much the reverse. By the end of that time we had accumulated a very fair quantity of the wood, and Brown had arrived at the conclusion that one more call would about suffice to complete our cargo. The question which then arose was, where should that call be made? for we had pretty well completed the round of the islands and exhausted their capabilities of supply, sandalwood happening to be rather scarce that year, while the demand for it had been unusually brisk, a frequent experience of ours being that other traders had been beforehand with us and had taken all that the islanders had for disposal. Finally, while ashore one day on the island of Tahiti, the skipper happened to overhear two men discussing sandalwood together, one of whom remarked to the other that there was still some wood to be obtained at the island of Roua Poua, one of the Marquesas group; and two hours later we were under weigh, bound for that same island.
Now at that time the Marquesas natives bore a somewhat shady character, it being said of them that they were rather inclined to be treacherous when the opportunity to be so was afforded them; therefore when, on our fourth day out from Tahiti, we sighted Roua Poua, we approached the island with all due precaution, every man of us being fully armed, with orders to use his weapons freely upon the slightest provocation. It was dusk when we arrived and let go our anchor under the lee of the island, and by the skipper’s order the sails were merely hauled down or brailed up, as the case might be, all ready for setting again at a moment’s notice, while the twenty-five fathom shackle of the cable was kept just inside the hawse pipe, with the pin loosened and ready to be knocked out instantly, in case it should become necessary to slip.
The anchor had scarcely splashed into the placid waters of the bay when, as in the case of most of the other islands visited, the schooner was surrounded by a round dozen or more canoes, manned by from two to five men, all anxious to be allowed to come alongside and barter the fruit or fish which they had brought off from the shore. They appeared to be fine stalwart fellows, and were unarmed, so far as we could see; but the skipper would not allow any of them to come alongside that night, and they returned good-humouredly enough to the shore after they had received permission to come off again the next morning. A strict anchor watch was maintained that night, but no canoes came near us, nor did anything occur to lead us to suppose that the natives meditated treachery toward us.
When they again came off at daylight on the following morning, although there were something like thirty canoes surrounding the schooner, each manned, as before, by from two to five men, they made no attempt to force their way alongside, but lay off at a distance of two or three fathoms, the men holding up their wares for our inspection and shouting their merits in that singular “pidgin” which passes for English among the Polynesians. And when at length Brown selected a particular canoe, the assortment of fruit in which appeared to be of a temptingly varied character, and ordered her owner to come alongside, the rest, instead of exhibiting anger or jealousy, simply pelted the fortunate competitor with good-natured chaff, and, taking to their paddles, headed for the shore, well knowing that the crew of so small a craft as the Martha Brown would have no custom to spare for more than one well-laden canoe. And even when the selected canoe came alongside, only two out of her crew of four offered to board us, the other two remaining in the canoe to pass up, as ordered by the owner, the various commodities which he had for sale. These commodities, by the way, consisted of fruits of various descriptions, eggs, chickens of astounding skinniness, and a half-grown porker, and the prices demanded, in what the skipper termed “truck”, were so ridiculously low that in the course of an hour’s lively bargaining we completely emptied the canoe of her contents.
When at length the bargaining was concluded, and the savage salesman was about to depart, he turned to the skipper and asked, in particularly good English:
“You stop it here long, Cap’n?”
“What business is that of your’n, sonny?” retorted Brown, his suspicions suddenly awakened again.
“Name it me Oahika, not ‘sonny’, Cap’n,” returned the savage. “If schooner stop it here, Oahika like it come off every day, bring it plenty fine fruit fresh fis’ chicken-an-egg.”
“Oh, that’s your game, is it?” observed Brown, reassured. “Want the app’intment of bumboat man in or’nary to this here schooner, eh?”
Oahika’s reply consisted merely of a good-humoured grin, which exhibited a remarkably fine set of teeth, deeply stained with betel nut. Probably his comprehension of “Old Man” Brown’s question was of the slenderest. The skipper, however, accepted the grin as an affirmative, and graciously remarked:
“Very well, then; you can come off again to-morrow, and see if we wants anything else. And say, the next time that you brings off chickens, let ’em be chickens, not livin’ skelintons. You sabby?”
Again Oahika smiled, the smile of the man who wishes to convey the impression that he “sabbys” perfectly, while in reality he does nothing of the kind.
“That’s all right, then,” continued Brown. “Now you can git away ashore agin as fast as you like, for we’re goin’ to be busy here.”
The native, who probably comprehended the skipper’s gestures better than he did his words, at once turned and made toward the rail, but was recalled by Brown, who enquired, in an offhand, casual sort of way:
“Say, you, Oah—what’s-your-name—you don’t happen to have no sandalwood ashore there, I s’pose?”
“Sandalwood!” repeated the savage. “I think it some mans got a leetle. You want it sandalwood, Cap’n?”
“Well, I guess I could do with a little, if there was any goin’ cheap,” returned the skipper.
“You like it me ask them mans come see you, Cap’n?” demanded Oahika.
“Well, yes, I guess you may,” replied the skipper. “Ask ’em to come off to-morrow mornin’, bringin’ the wood with ’em, and tell ’em that if they’re willin’ to let it go cheap I’ll buy it off ’em.”
The savage intimated in his own peculiar fashion that it would afford him much pleasure to perform this trifling service for his esteemed friend and patron, and then took his leave, grinning with apparent satisfaction at the result of his morning’s work. The skipper stood watching the progress of the canoe until she had nearly reached the shore, and then he turned to me and remarked:
“I guess there’s been a mistake somewhere about these here Marquesas natives. They don’t seem to me to be so very partic’lar treacherous. How do they strike you?”
“Why,” said I, “I have been amusing myself by very closely watching those two who were aboard, and I am bound to admit that their behaviour seemed quite unexceptionable. I mean,” I continued, noticing a slightly puzzled look on my companion’s face, “they seemed to behave pretty much like the natives of most of the other islands which we have visited, except that they did not attempt to steal anything.”
“Yep, I guess I noticed that too,” observed the skipper. “Well,” he continued, “we’ll just go on keepin’ our eyes open for a bit, but I don’t reckon upon our findin’ ourselves up agin anything so very serious in this here island.”
Brown had given our chocolate-coloured visitors to understand that we were to have a busy day aboard the schooner; but as a matter of fact that statement was merely an attempt to “bluff” the natives, “bluffing” having latterly become almost an instinctive act with the skipper. However, although we had nothing very particular to do we at least made a show of great industry, easing up and overhauling rigging, renewing chafing mats, and so on, Brown’s notion being to convey to the natives the idea that we had called in to overhaul and refit, rather than that we were in quest of sandalwood; by which ruse I think he hoped to get the wood at a somewhat cheaper rate than usual.
On the following morning Oahika and his crew came off to us again, bringing more fruit, a small quantity of vegetables, about a dozen eggs, and two animated barn-door skeletons which the skipper positively refused to purchase at any price. And with them came four other canoes, each of which had some eight or ten sticks of sandalwood in her.
“Hullo!” exclaimed the skipper, when he saw this display, “what in the nation do they mean by bringin’ off them scraps? Is it to show us the sort o’ stuff that they have to sell, I wonder? Hi, you!”—to Oahika—“what have them fellers brought off that wood for?”
“Sandalwood, that,” explained the savage. “They want it sell dem wood you.”
“Sell!” ejaculated the skipper; “sell! Why, there ain’t enough wood there to light a fire with. Is that all that they’ve got?—because there ain’t enough there to make it worth my while to open out my ‘truck’. I wouldn’t give one bandanner handkercher for the whole measly lot!”
Oahika conferred with his friends for a while, and then turned to the skipper.
“Mans say,” he explained, “that dem wood all it got cut. Plenty more yonder,” pointing generally toward the shore. “They say s’pose you want it more wood, you go ’shore and show it dem how much you want, and mans cut it for you.”
“Well, I’m jiggered!” exclaimed the skipper explosively. “If I’d ha’ knowed that them few twigs was all that the lazy skunks had got cut, d’ye think I’d ha’ brought the Marthy all this way out of her road to buy it? No, sirree, not by a jugful! But,” he continued, his wrath subsiding as rapidly as it had blazed up, “seein’ that we’re here I s’pose the best thing for me to do’ll be to go ashore, have a look at that there wood, and see if I kin strike a bargain on it. ’T all events, if I do that I’ll be able to choose the best wood they have, ’nstead of buyin’ just any blamed stuff that they like to bring off to me.”
“Do you think it will be wise to trust yourself ashore alone with those fellows?” I asked. “You must remember that we have seen very little of them, thus far; and it will be well to keep in mind, too, the fact that they have rather an unenviable reputation for treachery. Why not order so many canoe-loads of wood from them, and let it go at that?”
“Well—no—I guess not,” answered the skipper. “If I do that they’ll work off all their worst stuff on me, and I’ll just have to take it or go without. No; I reckon I’ll go ashore and pick my own wood: then I shall know that I’m gettin’ full vally for my money. But I won’t go alone; I guess I’ll take two hands with me, and we’ll go fully armed. I don’t believe in takin’ no unnecessary risks.”
“No,” I agreed; “there is no sense in that sort of thing. Who will you take with you? Would you care to have Mr Cunningham and myself with you?”
“No, I guess not,” answered Brown with decision. “I’ll take Mr Cunnin’ham and one o’ the foremast hands with me; but you’ll stay here, Mr Temple, and look a’ter the ship. And I guess I’ll go right now; then we shall be able to get back in time for dinner. Now, let’s see; I’ll have Mr Cunnin’ham for one, as I said, and—yes, Joe Maybury’ll do very well for t’other. Just give them two their instructions, Mr Temple, will ye. I’ll be ready to go in ten minutes; and I guess we’ll go in the jollyboat.”
I found Cunningham and explained the situation to him, and he was, naturally, delighted at the idea of having a run ashore; but I warned him to keep his weather eye lifting, and to take a couple of fully loaded revolvers with him, as well as plenty of cartridges, and a cutlass. Then I found Maybury, and gave him similar instructions, winding up by telling off three more men to go in the jollyboat and bring her back as soon as she had landed her passengers. Ten minutes later the little expedition started, and I stood and watched them as they pulled away for the beach, accompanied by the five canoes which had come off to us half an hour earlier.
As they drew in toward the shore I perceived, with a momentary qualm of uneasiness, that quite a considerable number of natives was turning out to meet them; but upon bringing the ship’s telescope to bear upon the beach my uneasiness was to a considerable extent dissipated, for I then saw that the crowd was largely composed of women and children, while, so far as I could see, none of the men carried anything resembling a weapon. Also I was unable to detect any sign of hostility or excitement on the faces of the natives; on the contrary, they all appeared to be smiling with the utmost good humour, and as Cunningham stepped out of the boat I saw one café au lait coloured young minx dart forward and laughingly throw a garland of gay-tinted flowers round his neck. The screech of delight with which this achievement was greeted reached my ears even where I was, a good half mile from the beach. The laughing, shouting crowd then closed in upon the newcomers, and once again I became a trifle anxious; but presently I caught a glimpse of Cunningham’s smiling countenance in the midst of the crowd, and a minute or two later the skipper and his bodyguard emerged, and, accompanied by the sandalwood merchants, walked off up a footpath that vanished among the trees within fifty yards of the shore.
Then, to my annoyance, the natives gathered round the boat, and the crew, instead of returning forthwith, as I had instructed them to do, laid in their oars, stepped out of her on to the sand, and proceeded interestedly to inspect various articles which the savages seemed to be urging them to purchase. As I continued to watch them through the glass I saw first one of our men and then another emerge from the crowd, go to the boat, and carefully deposit something—probably a “curio” of some kind—in her sternsheets, and then rejoin the laughing, gesticulating throng. This went on for something like twenty minutes, by the end of which time my patience was quite exhausted; and I directed one of the hands to get out the ensign and bend it on to the main signal halyards while I went below to get a gun, intending to hoist the ensign and at the same time fire the gun in the air as a signal of recall to the recalcitrant boat’s crew. But when I returned on deck with the loaded weapon I was just in time to see the entire crowd retiring up the pathway, leaving the boat abandoned on the shore, with about a foot of her forefoot hauled up on the beach and her painter made fast to one of her stretchers, which had been thrust like a peg for about half its length into the sand!
The man who was standing by to hoist the ensign grinned as he caught my eye. “I guess them three jokers have toddled off up to the village,” he said.
But I had my doubts, and did not like the appearance of things at all; my former suspicions rushed back with redoubled force, and—
“Hoist away that ensign,” I said curtly; and as the man began to pull upon the halyards I lifted the gun to my shoulder, and, pointing it well out to seaward, pulled the trigger. By the time that the smoke cleared away not a native was to be seen!