“Been below with the skipper, sir, and there won’t be much the matter by this time to-morrow if the savages leave us alone.”
Chapter Fourteen.
A False Alarm.
“It’s my opinion,” said Captain Banes, “that when the sun goes down a breeze will spring up; and I mean to get as far up as I can before it is too dark to see, for the sooner we’re out of this neighbourhood the better.”
“Do you think there’s a village of these people near?” asked Brace.
“Oh, no; there may be a few huts with the wives and children close at hand, but so far as I know there are only a few of them here and there up the rivers leading a hunting and fishing life.”
But the captain’s prophecy was not fulfilled. There was a little ripple on the water for a few minutes after sundown, but not enough breeze to fill out a sail, and the darkness came on with the brig swinging easily by the creaking cable, which ground and fretted in the hawse-holes.
“Now, squire,” said the captain, turning to Brace, “how’s it going to be? Shall we be all right here at anchor, or will those chaps who got ashore hunt up all their friends and come off in canoes when it’s dark, to kill us and sack the brig?”