"'"Who goes dere free times?" shouted the sentry. Bang went the musket immediately. The bullet tore up the water; but as the sentry had fired at me, of course he didn't touch me.*
* The black sentries on duty at night in or near the dockyards at Jamaica had orders to challenge "Who goes there?" three times, and to fire in the event of not receiving an answer. Their plan, however, was to shout, "Who goes dere free times?" and immediately fire.
"'"Good-bye, Tom," says the shark; "I'm off. Good luck to you till we meet again!"
"'"And may all the bad weather go with you, you ugly beast," says I. "But I'm safe now, and hurrah for a jolly time of it!"
"'I landed further down, and—that's all the story. Well, here's your good health again, ladies.'"
* * * * *
But Jack saw plenty of sharks after a time, and more than one was captured. It is about as poor sport, however, and as cruel as shooting alligators in the swamps.
* * * * *
I have now to describe a rather melancholy event which occurred here at Jamaica on board the Gurnet, which no one deplored more than Jack Mackenzie, although it led indirectly to his promotion.
We must go back a few weeks in our narrative, however, to describe how it happened, or rather to give you, as Dr. Reikie would have said, the primary cause of the sad affair.