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- him to clear away another boat, and then darted into the cabin to tell
the captain the news. Springing on deck again, he drove down into the
forecastle for a couple of oarsmen, but hardly got there before there
was a cry, and a loud splash heard over the side. It was the Mowree and
the boat—into which he had just leaped to get ready for
lowering—rolling over and over in the water.
The boat having at nightfall been hoisted up to its place over the
starboard quarter, someone had so cut the tackles which held it there,
that a moderate strain would at once part them. Bembo’s weight had
answered the purpose, showing that the deserters must have ascertained
his specific gravity to a fibre of hemp. There was another boat
remaining; but it was as well to examine it before attempting to lower.
And it was well they did; for there was a hole in the bottom large
enough to drop a barrel through: she had been scuttled most ruthlessly.
Jermin was frantic. Dashing his hat upon deck, he was about to plunge
overboard and swim to the corvette for a cutter, when Captain Guy made
his appearance and begged him to stay where he was. By this time the
officer of the deck aboard the Frenchman had noticed our movements, and
hailed to know what had happened. Guy informed him through his trumpet,
and men to go in pursuit were instantly promised. There was a whistling
of a boatswain’s pipe, an order or two, and then a large cutter pulled
out from the man-of-war’s stern, and in half a dozen strokes was
alongside. The mate leaped into her, and they pulled rapidly ashore.
Another cutter, carrying an armed crew, soon followed.
In an hour’s time the first returned, towing the two whale-boats, which
had been found turned up like tortoises on the beach.
Noon came, and nothing more was heard from the deserters. Meanwhile
Doctor Long Ghost and myself lounged about, cultivating an
acquaintance, and gazing upon the shore scenery. The bay was as calm as
death; the sun high and hot; and occasionally a still gliding canoe
stole out from behind the headlands, and shot across the water.
And all the morning long our sick men limped about the deck, casting
wistful glances inland, where the palm-trees waved and beckoned them
into their reviving shades. Poor invalid rascals! How conducive to the
restoration of their shattered health would have been those delicious
groves! But hard-hearted Jermin assured them, with an oath, that foot
of theirs should never touch the beach.
Toward sunset a crowd was seen coming down to the water. In advance of
all were the fugitives—bareheaded—their frocks and trousers hanging in
tatters, every face covered with blood and dust, and their arms
pinioned behind them with green thongs. Following them up, was a
shouting rabble of islanders, pricking them with the points of their
long spears, the party from the corvette menacing them in flank with
their naked cutlasses.
The bonus of a musket to the King of the Bay, and the promise of a
tumblerful of powder for every man caught, had set the whole population
on their track; and so successful was the hunt, that not only were that
morning’s deserters brought back, but five of those left behind on a
former visit. The natives, however, were the mere hounds of the chase,
raising the game in their coverts, but leaving the securing of it to
the Frenchmen. Here, as elsewhere, the islanders have no idea of taking
part in such a scuffle as ensues upon the capture of a party of
desperate seamen.
The runaways were at once brought aboard, and, though they looked
rather sulky, soon came round, and treated the whole affair as a
frolicsome adventure.
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