James Braithwaite, the Supercargo: The Story of his Adventures Ashore and AfloatKingston, William Henry Giles
History
James Braithwaite, the Supercargo: The Story of his Adventures Ashore and Afloat
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Great Britain -- History, Naval -- 19th century -- Fiction
possessed in the world, and knew that, should they even ultimately
arrive at their destination, they must land as beggars, dependent on the
bounty of others. They were therefore naturally very loud in their
complaints of the captain and his mate, while they were continually
bewailing their own hard lot. Those persons had, as I observed, removed
themselves to a distance from the rest of our shipwrecked band.
We had retired to tents for the night, and had lain down to sleep, when
after some time I was awoke by sounds of shouting and laughter, followed
by shrieks and cries, which seemed to come up from the beach where the
captain and his associates had taken up their quarters. The noises
increased, and O'Carroll awoke. He got up, and we went together to the
entrance of our tent. The night was very calm. The stars shone forth
from the dark sky with a brilliancy I have never seen surpassed; even
the restless sea was quiet, and met the shore with an almost noiseless
kiss; all nature seemed tranquil and at rest. A shot was heard, and
then another, and another, followed by shouts and execrations. "There
will be bloodshed among those madmen," exclaimed O'Carroll. "They have
got hold of some liquor unknown to us, and are fighting with each other:
we must try and separate them." Calling my brother and the rest of the
party to come to our assistance, we hurried off in the direction whence
the sounds proceeded.
CHAPTER NINE.
LIFE ON THE ISLAND.
When we got sufficiently near the beach to distinguish objects, we saw
the captain standing with a pistol in his hand, which was pointed at the
mate, who held a long knife in his hand, with which he was about, it
seemed, to make a rush at his opponent, while three or four men had
arranged themselves on either side, and were nourishing various weapons.
The shots we heard told us that they had already fired at each other
several times, but were too tipsy to take a steady aim. One man,
however, lay wounded on the ground, and from the gestures of the mate,
he would in another instant plunge his knife in the bosom of the
captain, unless stopped by the latter's bullet.
"You knock up the skipper's arm, while I seize the other fellow,"
exclaimed O'Carroll to me, springing forward.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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