The ship seemed to glide away from us into the darkness.
CHAPTER VIII.
AN UNKNOWN LAND.
Now, although we were adrift in a perilous sea, and had no hope of making land, save in a wild and savage country, where there was more hope of mercy from the Indians than from the civilized Spaniards, I was yet so thankful to find myself free of the ship and of Senor Manuel Nunez, that for some moments I could scarcely believe in my freedom.
“I could swear that I am but dreaming and shall presently awake to find myself a prisoner,” I said to Pharaoh, who was busily engaged in examining the boat.
“’Tis no dream, master,” said he. “This is a very stern reality, as you shall quickly find. Nor is it time for dreaming. If we mean to come out of this adventure with whole skins, we shall have to acquit ourselves like true men.”
“I am ready,” said I. “Tell me what to do, and I will do it.”
“Well said,” he answered approvingly. “But I could see from the outset that you had the true spirit in you. You are a Yorkshireman, master, and I am a sea-dog of Cornwall; but, marry, we are both Englishmen, and we will come out of this scrape yet. ’Tis not the worst I have been in—but more of that anon. Now to begin with, we will discuss our present situation, and then, having determined our course of action, we will put it into execution.”