Feeling more secure they struck out with powerful
strokes driving the plank that supported their bags, ahead. The
mountains that surround Malaga on all sides and tower far up in the
starlit sky seemed only a few hundred yards away; but it was a full mile
before the end of the plank grated on the shore and the sailors
scrambled out on the slippery and weed covered rocks. They landed a
little to the north of the city and grasping their bags commenced the
ascent of the mountain. This was very steep and rough and exceedingly
dangerous work as it was not yet daylight. Having gained a good height
up the side they rested. A faint glimmer was just then tingeing the sky
and everything around them was still as death. The gentle lapping of
the waves against the rocky shore, the barking of the dogs in Malaga,
and the occasional crow of a rooster rang out with wonderful
distinctness. The anchor light of the ship about one mile away twinkled
as though only a little distance off. Not yet feeling secure they began
climbing upwards. The progress was arrested by a hoarse sound coming
from the direction of the ship. As they sat on the rocks to listen,
they heard the voice of the mate baying out oath after oath, calling the
watch and asking:
"Who was the last on watch? Where is the watch? Turn out all hands!"
Then oaths from another voice came floating up and they had no
difficulty in recognizing the choice maledictions of the captain as he
rushed on deck to ascertain the cause of the disturbance.
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