The man who had taken it to the galley trotted away again in his dog-like fashion, disappeared, and then came into sight again directly, to shout out to the mate:
“Cook says it aren’t half hot enough, sir.”
“Bring the poker,” roared the mate. “Told you to fetch it, didn’t I? What do I want with what the cook says?”
The man darted into the galley again and reappeared directly with the poker. The other men commenced roaring with laughter when they saw him, for he limped aft like a lame dog now, one hand being occupied with the poker.
“Ahoy there!” shouted the captain; “be smart with that gun. Look out.”
For just then the prow of a good-sized canoe appeared from beneath the overhanging boughs of the trees, and was paddled out quickly by four men, while two more stood in the stern fitting arrows to their bows.
“Steady!” growled the mate, as he slewed the mouth of the cannon round in the direction of the coming boat. “Now then, pass me that poker. Here, Mr Brace, you’d better get into shelter away from the pieces. That’s right, my lad. Be off.”
The man trotted back and settled himself down under the bulwark, and just then Brace laid hold of the poker.
“Let me fire,” he said.
“What, aren’t you skeart, sir?” said the mate, with a grin, as he relaxed his hold.