"My God!" he ejaculated.
CHAPTER II.
OUR FIRST VIEW OF THE NATIVES.
The Skipper's tone was reverent, but full of horror. We all, even to the Cook, ran up to a higher spot to see what had so disturbed the old man.
"You'll see it just as well from the beach," said the Skipper. "They've set the old Yankee afire!"
It was true. We could not see very clearly for the smoke which the firing had made, but as we gazed anxiously, knowing what the entire loss of the ship would mean for us, we saw that smoke had begun to pour from the ports and hatches. First appeared the misty stream which the Skipper had discovered, then it grew thicker.
As we gazed, fascinated with the horrible spectacle, the flames began to shoot upward. They curled round the lower mast, they ran up the rigging, they licked their way up the shrouds. They ran aloft, and swallowed the crosstrees, first having eaten into the very tops. The smoke was thicker than ever, and made a dark background for the points and jets of flame, which leaped through its walls. And now, as we watched breathless, each one glued to his post, no word spoken between us, a long, low, ominous rumble came to our ears. There were two or three sharp cracks, the flames leaped to the sky, there was a final thunderous crash, and the air was a mass of flying timbers. I turned to look at the Skipper. The glass had fallen unheeded from his fingers, the tears were dropping off the end of his nose. He winked hard, and took out a bandana and wiped his forehead to hide his emotion.
"I suppose you think I'm an old fool to stand here and cry like a baby. Perhaps you don't think I should feel anything to see my handsome ship go up in smoke." The old man's lips quivered. "She's been home and wife and children to me for a good many years, the old Yankee Blade has—yes, and a livin'. I ought to have stayed at home. I never should have tried it again. I was foolish; I deserted her; I never should have done it but for that damn' girl, who don't appreciate it any more——"