One would have said that a hundred men had been amusing themselves with trying to see how much mischief could be done in a given length of time. The contents of the staterooms were dragged into the cabin, where they might be examined leisurely, and left lying on the floor. Food of all kinds was scattered in every direction, and as much wasted as would have served the rightful crew of the yacht for many days.
“We ought to be thankful we have got the Day Dream back in any condition,” Gil said, with a long-drawn sigh; “but it is more than provoking to think we gave that crowd the opportunity of destroying things.”
“All the weapons, watches and money are gone,” Nelse added; “but from what your father said I don’t fancy the amount of cash is enough to make them very rich, and we’ll soon repair damages, so it won’t pay to mourn a great deal. Let’s do what we can toward setting things to rights.”
While the boys were engaged in this work, Andy was surveying his quarters, and if harsh words could have injured the mutineers, not one would have been left alive five minutes after he saw the condition of his kitchen.
They had not spent so much time in the galley as aft; but the same scene of wanton destruction met the cook’s gaze, and he attributed the greater portion of it to the voudoos, whose especial domains the boys had threatened to invade.
“Dere’s gwine ter be de berry debbil raised on dis yere cruise, ef de captain consists in runnin’ to Hayti,” he muttered, while trying to repair the damage. “I’se done gone boun’ ter tork ter dem boys ag’in, kase dey mus’ know wha’s sartin ter happen, ef dat pirates’ gol’ ain’ got out ob dere min’s.”
During this time those on deck had not been idle. Every inch of canvas belonging to the yacht was spread to catch the first breath of air which should come over the sea, and the captain and mate amused themselves by watching the mutineers, who still remained on the beach as if unable to understand that they had lost the little craft so suddenly.
“There comes what we are waiting for,” Mr. Jenkins said, as he pointed toward the west, where a faint ruffling of the water into a deeper blue betokened the rising of the wind. “Now, what is to be done with the fellow forward?”
“Call him aft, and let him decide the question.”
The man obeyed Mr. Jenkins’ summons in a slouchy, shamefaced manner, touching his hat when he reached the quarter-deck, and standing there as if expecting punishment was about to be meted out to him.