"Lubber!" retorted the indignant parrot.
"I guess I am all you accuse me of being," answered Dan with a mirthless laugh.
Running up the companionway he crouched under the hatchway, listening in order to determine whether a wave were washing over the ship or just leaving the stern. Having decided on this, the lad quickly threw open the hatch and sprang out on deck.
A cold blast of salt spray smote him full in the face. Dan cleared his eyes and glanced about him inquiringly. He was able to see but little of deck or mast, but he felt quite sure that only one of the latter had been left standing.
There was a sudden angry flash off to port.
"Lightning," muttered Dan. "We're going to have a thunderstorm to add to my other troubles."
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the ship received a shock so sudden and violent as to throw the boy flat on his face on the deck.
"That's the time we were struck," he cried, springing up.
Indeed the "Oriole" had been struck, but not in the way that Dan Davis thought. Instead of being struck by lightning another projectile from the seven-inch gun had torn its way through the stricken schooner.
Dan never had been under fire; in fact, he never had taken part in target practice, so he knew little of what big-gun fire was like.