"Cooking-fire there!" he exclaimed. "Maybe get something to eat? Maybe get killed?"
He spoke cheerfully, as if neither prospect was devoid of charm.
"We'll risk it," remarked Kingswell, quietly. "Put your weight into the stroke, lads—and, Tom, keep your match handy."
At last the bend was rounded, and the rowers turned on the thwarts and peered over their shoulders, and Kingswell uttered a low cry of delight. Close ahead of them the right-hand bank lay level and open, and along its edge were beached three skiffs. About twenty yards back stood a little settlement of log cabins enclosed by palisades. From the chimneys of the cabins plumes of comfortable smoke rose to the clearer azure above. In front of this civilized spot, in mid-stream, a small high-pooped vessel lay moored. Her masts and spars were gone. She swung like a dead body in the brown current.
Tom Bent swore softly and with grave deliberation. "Damn my eyes," he murmured. "Ay, sir, dash my old figger-head, if there don't lay a reggler, complete plantation! Blast my eyes!"
"A tidy, Christian appearin' place," remarked Clotworthy, joyously. "An' real chimleys, too! Well, that do look homely, for certain."
At that moment three men, armed with muskets, ran from the gateway of the enclosure and stood uncertain half-way between the palisade and the river. Kingswell hailed them, standing in the bluff bows of the little Pelican. He stated the nationality, the names, and degrees of himself and the other of the little company, and the manner of their misfortune, even while the boat was covering the short distance to the shore.
The settlers laid aside their weapons, and received Master Kingswell and his men with every show of cordiality and good faith. They were strapping fellows, with weather-tanned faces, broad foreheads, steady eyes, and herculean shoulders. They doffed their skin caps to the gentleman adventurer.
"Ye be our first visitors, sir, since we come ashore here two year and two months ago come to-morrow," said one of the three. "Yes, it be just two year and two months ago, come to-morrow, that we dropped anchor off the mouth of this river," he added, turning to his companions. They agreed silently. Their eyes and attention were fully absorbed by Master Kingswell's imposing, though sadly stained, yellow boots and gold-laced coat. Another settler joined the group, and welcomed the voyagers with sheepish grins. A fifth, arrayed in finery and a sword, approached and halted near by.
"These," said the spokesman, "be Donnellys—father and son." With a casual tip of the thumb, he indicated two rugged members of the company. He turned to a handsome young giant beside him and smote him affectionately on the shoulder. "This here be my boy John—John Trigget," he said, "an' that gentleman be Captain Pierre d'Antons." He bowed, with ungracious deference, to the dark, lean, fashionably dressed individual who stood a few paces away. "An' my name be William Trigget, master mariner," he concluded.