When we reached the schooner we pried off the lid of the iron box and found a mass of discolored pulp, at the bottom of which was a brass plate with the word Isabella cut upon it in large characters.
We were so tired out with our exertions that as soon as we had something to eat all hands turned in for a short rest before beginning to unload everything on the beach. This appeared to be the only way out of the difficulty, and the skipper’s anxiety increased at every delay.
In the afternoon we began to get the gear out of the hold, and soon had the deck covered with stuff of all kinds to be sent ashore. As we had to break out some of our provisions, we closed the hatchway that evening on account of the heavy dew that fell at night.
After supper we started to load the boat, but as the men were tired they worked slowly. Garnett was growing ugly under the continual nagging by the skipper, and once Frisbow started to remonstrate with the captain for directing his abuse against the mate. This only had the effect of precipitating matters, and Garnett, who was passing some of the gear into the boat alongside, threw down the coil of rope he had in his hand and swore a great oath that he would not do another stroke of work until the skipper “mended his jaw tackle.”
This drove the old man into a frenzy, and before we could stop him he grabbed a harpoon and poised it to hurl at the mate.
“You mutinous scoundrel,” he yelled, “I’ll show you who’s captain of this craft!” Quick as thought he threw the iron, and I believed Garnett’s end had come.
Quicker still did the old sailor spring to one side, and, grabbing the bomb-gun, let drive at the skipper’s head, while the harpoon drove clear through the port bulwarks and hung there. The recoil of the gun sent Garnett staggering backward, while the captain, throwing up his hands, fell like a log across the hatchway. Frisbow and I stood horror-stricken for an instant and then we rushed to the captain’s side. I expected to find half of his head torn off by the shell, but, although his face was black with powder and the blood oozed from his mouth, he appeared to have no wound whatever.
We carried him aft and laid him out in his bunk, Garnett lending a hand as if nothing had happened between them. Then the professor went for the medicine-chest.
After washing blood, grease, and powder from the old man’s bruised face and applying a little spirits between his swelling lips, he suddenly opened his eyes and saw Garnett standing close by. He made a quick movement as though to rise, but Frisbow held him down. Then seeing we had mistaken the motive, he smiled a ghastly smile and held out his hand in the direction of the mate.
Garnett stepped forward and took it and their eyes met.