“I never saw those nuggets again, but believe they were fashioned into spear-heads for the king.”
While Halcott and James were talking quietly down below, Tandy was walking the deck with considerable uneasiness. There was a strange appearance far away in the north that he did not like. No banks of clouds were rising, only just a curious black, or rather purple, haze. It had been so very clear all round up till an hour ago, that danger would have been the last thing Tandy would have thought about.
He looked towards the distant island through his glass at three o’clock, and it was then visible; but now, though the dog-watch had only just begun, it was wiped out, swallowed up in the mysterious haze.
But when a bigger wave than usual rolled in, and others and others followed, and when the surface became wrinkled here and there with cat’s-paws, he hesitated no longer.
“All hands on deck!” he shouted, stamping loudly on the planks to arouse those below. “Hands loosen sail! Man the winch, lads! It must be up anchors, and off!”
There was wind enough shortly to work to windward till they were quite clear of the bay, then they kept the barque away on the starboard tack, until well clear of the island.
They now worked northwards as far as possible, till the wind got too strong, when they were obliged to lie to, almost under bare poles.
Neither Tandy, Halcott, nor James could remember having encountered so terrible a storm before. No one thought of turning in that night, for, being so short-handed, every man was needed on deck.