I asked him how he managed at night-time as regarded sleep.
He laughed quietly, and assured us that he never lost a night's rest during the whole of the time he was at sea. He would simply “scandalise” his mainsail without reefing it, haul the staysail sheet to windward, and let the cutter head reach till daylight. The Francesco he said—and I afterwards found out that he was not over-rating her qualities—was a marvellous little vessel for taking care of herself.
“Well, I jogged along till one Sunday morning, when I made the land between Cape Bougainville and Cape St. George. It had been raining in torrents for two days, and I was feeling a bit done up; so, picking out a quiet little bay with thick forest growing right down to the water's edge, and not a sign of a native or native house, I ran in and let go in fifteen fathoms, but within a stone throw of the shore. And I'll be hanged, gentlemen, if I did not see, ten minutes afterwards, the smoke of half a dozen signal fires rising over the trees from as many different places, and all within three miles of the cutter. However, I was too weak to heave up again, even had I felt inclined. I wanted to cosset myself up, and get a good sweating between thick blankets to drive some of the fever out of me; and, niggers or no niggers, I meant to do so that day. Then I thought of a dodge—I mean the broken-glass trick.
“In the hold were half a dozen barrels of empty gin, beer, and whisky bottles. We had put them aside to give to the Admiralty Island people—especially the women and children—who attached some value to them as water holders. I brought up sixty or seventy dozen, and smashed them up in a clean hogshead. Then I turned the whole lot out in a heap on the main hatch, got a shovel, and covered the entire deck fore and aft, first getting all loose ropes, &c, out of the way, as I did not want to get any glass in my own hands when I next handled the running gear. After that I went below, lit a spirit lamp, and made myself a big bowl of hot soup—real hot soup—a small tin of soup and bouilli, and a half bottle of Worcester sauce with a spoonful of cayenne pepper and a stiff glass of brandy thrown in.
“It touched me up, I can tell you, but I knew it would do me good as I lay down in my bunk, rolled myself in a heavy blanket, and piled over me every other rug and blanket I could find. In half an hour I was sweating profusely, for not only was the soup remedy working, but the little cabin, having every opening closed, was stiflingly hot. However, I stuck it out for a good two hours, till I felt I could stand it no longer; so I got up, unfastened my cabin door to get some air, and began rubbing myself down with a coarse towel. Heavens! it felt delightful; for although my bones still ached, and I was very shaky on my legs, my head was better, and my spirits began to rise. I put on my pyjamas, went on deck, and had a look round. It was nearly dark, the rain had cleared off, a young moon was just lifting over the trees, and the little bay was as quiet as the grave—except for the cries of a colony of flying foxes which lived in a big vi tree just a cable's length away from the cutter.
“I knew that the New Britain and New Ireland natives don't like going out after dark, and that if these people meant mischief to me, they would wait till just before daylight, when they would expect to find everyone on board asleep; so, feeling much better and stronger, I turned in at eight o'clock, and slept till past midnight. I made some coffee, drank it, and laid down again, dozing off every now and then till just before dawn. Then I heard a sudden rush on deck, followed by the most diabolical howls and yells as twenty or thirty niggers jumped overboard with bleeding feet, many of them leaving their clubs lying on the deck. I put my head out of the cabin, and gave them half a dozen revolver shots, but I'm afraid I didn't hit any of the beggars.
“I got away on the same morning, and made a fine run right across St. George's Channel, and along the New Britain coast till I made Cape Roebuck. Once the cutter did a steady nine knots for thirty hours. After running on that reef, I did not drop anchor again till I brought up off a rocky beach a few miles from here; and there the niggers made another try to get me, but the broken glass again proved effectual.”
“It's a mighty smart dodge, Captain Yorke,” said Guest, as we rose and shook hands with him, for he was going to sleep on board his own vessel.