After this a
confused murmur arose from the deck through which they fancied they
could hear the blows of massive fists rained down on the heads and faces
of the unfortunate seaman. They distinctly heard the sharp order:
"Lower away the gig!" The click, click of the cleat as the rope ran
through the blocks sounded alarmingly near to them. Soon after, advanced
daylight revealed to them the boat as it was swiftly rowed to the
shore. They recognized the captain seated in the stern and laughed
heartily over the thought of the great rage of the commander whom they
knew was eating his heart out. They surmised that his mission was to go
to the Consul and report them as deserters and also start the Carbineros
in search of them, by means of a reward for their capture. But they felt
secure in the place they had selected, far up on the mountain. They
quietly enjoyed the scenes below and watched the lighters as they
carried out the last of the cargo. They laughed as they saw the
captain's gig shoot fretfully from ship to shore many times during the
day, while they enjoyed their pipes and ate with relish their salt beef
and sea-biscuits. Late in the afternoon they observed with glee the last
lighter leave the side of the Pilgrim, the captain's gig hoisted on
board, and the heavy sails loosened and dropped down.
Pages:
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185