Wade ran down after the powder and balls. The rest of us unlashed the gun, got off the rubber-cloth, and trundled it along to point it over the starboard rail. Raed then swabbed it out; Kit poured in the powder; while Wade and I rammed down a wad of old newspaper.
"Now, put in a good dose of these blue-pills," advised the captain, scooping up both hands full from the bag in which we kept them.
"Ef you war ter jest tie 'em up, or wrop 'em in a bit of canvas, they'd go straighter, and wouldn't scatter round so bad," remarked old Trull, who was not an uninterested spectator of the proceedings.
"Make them up sort of grape or canister shot fashion, you mean," said Raed.
"Yes; that's what I mean,—ter keep 'em frum scatterin'."
"Not a bad idea," said Capt. Mazard. "Weymouth, bring a piece of old canvas and a bit of manila-yarn."
About a quart of the ounce balls were hastily wrapped in the canvas, and lashed up with the hempen twine. The bag was then rammed down upon the powder, and the howitzer pointed.
"Let old Trull do the shooting," whispered Kit. "He will be as likely to hit as any of us."
"Mr. Trull," Capt. Mazard began, "we must look to you to shoot those bears for us. Pepper 'em good, now!"
At that we all stood away from the gun. The old fellow grinned, hesitated a moment, then stepped forward, evidently not a little flattered by the confidence reposed in him. First he sighted the piece very methodically. The schooner lay perfectly still. A better chance for a shot could hardly have been asked for. Palmleaf now came up with a bit of tarred rope lighted at the stove, and smoking after the manner of a slow match, with a red coal at the end. Trull took the rope, and, watching his chance till both the bears were in sight and near each other, touched the priming,—Tizz-z-z-whang!