Surely the stage lost a star when Gabriel became a whaler. The old Thespian was good—he was great. His acting carried conviction. The sailors believed I was drowning. They leaned upon their oars with a will. The sweeps bent beneath the powerful strokes. The boat jumped through the water. I noted the increased speed by the white spray that began to stand at the bow. Gabriel helped along the speed by forward lurches of his body, pushing at the same time upon the stroke oar. All the while he kept shouting:
"We save him yet, dat poor feller! Pull away, my boys."
The boat came up rapidly. In a little while it was almost upon me. I tried to dodge it by darting off at right angles. It was no use—Gabriel slewed his tiller and the boat came swishing round upon me. I had played the game out to the last and I was beaten—that was all. I caught the gunwale near the bow and pulled myself into the boat.
"You make dam good swim, my boy," said old Gabriel, smiling at me as he brought the boat around and headed back for the ship.
I had made a good swim. I was fully a mile from the brig. I was not much over a half mile from shore. I looked across the sunlit, dancing blue water to the land. How easy it would have been to swim it! How easy it would have been after I had crawled out upon the sands to hide in the nearby mountains and live on wild fruit until the ship started for the north and all danger of capture was past.
No land could have seemed more beautiful. Groves of banana, orange, and cocoanut trees held out their fruit to me. Forests swept to the summits of the mountains. Flowers were in riotous bloom everywhere. I could almost count the ribs in the glossy fronds of the palms. I could hear the soft crash of the combers on the coral beaches of those enchanted shores. It all looked like paradise and I had missed it by half a mile.
When I reached the brig, Mr. Landers permitted me to put on dry clothing and then put me in irons, as the sea phrase is. This consisted in fastening my hands together in front of me with a pair of steel handcuffs of the ordinary kind used by sheriffs and policemen everywhere. Then he made me sit on the main hatch until Captain Winchester came back from Honolulu, along toward sundown.
"What's the matter with that man?" roared the captain as he swung over the rail and his eyes lighted on me.
"He jumped overboard and tried to swim ashore," said Mr. Landers in his nasal Cape Cod drawl.
"Why didn't you get my rifle and shoot him?" thundered the captain.