I never knew whether to ascribe the apathy the savages manifested to this communication, to a wish that the fact might be known to the people below, or to indifference. They certainly proceeded in their movements with just as much coolness as if they had the ship all to themselves. They had six or eight canoes, and parties of them began to move round the vessel, with precisely the same confidence as men would do it in a friendly port. What most surprised me were the quiet and submission to orders they observed. At length the axe was found secreted in the bows of the launch, and Marble was apprised of the use to which it was immediately applied, by the heavy blows that fell upon the cables.
“Miles,” said the chief-mate—“these blows go to my heart! Are the blackguards really in earnest?”
“The larboard bower is gone, sir, and the blows you now hear are on the starboard, which is already half in two—that finishes it; the ship now hangs only by the warp.”
“Is there any wind, boy?”
“Not a breath of it in the bay, though I can see a little ripple on the water, outside.”
“Is it rising or falling water, Miles?”
“The ebb is nearly done—they'll never be able to get the ship up on the shelving rock where they had the Sea-Otter, until the water rises ten or twelve feet.”
“Thank God for that! I was afraid they might get her on that accursed bed, and break her back at once.”
“Is it of any importance to us, Mr. Marble? What hope can we have of doing anything against such odds, and in our circumstances?”
“The odds I care nothing for, boy. My lads are screwed up so tight, they'd lick the whole North-West Coast, if they could only get on deck without having their fashion-pieces stove in. The circumstances, I allow, must count for a great deal.”