THE BUCCANEERS PRESENTLY SET SAIL IN THE SCHOONER FOR JAMAICA, WITH A RELATION OF THE EVENTS WHICH HAPPENED THERE. Behold us, then, seated in great conclave under an awning, which it was Stout Jem’s first precaution to have spread, as, the berths in the schooner being close and stifling, we desired to sleep in the open air. In such a case, the stretching of an awning preserves a crew from the fall of the unwholesome dews, and from the rays of the moon, which, mild and beautiful as they are, yet, by some hidden power, swell and distort the features of such as sleep with their faces unprotected from the baneful light. A sea-box put upon deck served as a table, and we sat on chests and coils of rope round it. The night was beautiful and serene. The land-breeze just murmured aloft, the sleeping water of the bay was dotted with the twinkling images of the stars, and all around the dusky hills flung their forest ridges high into the balmy air—wreaths of mist and vapour, like broad white ribbons, showing where the rich alluvial valleys and ravines clove the sweep of the wooded uplands. Two or three lanterns stood upon the chest, glimmering on the pans and pipkins wherein we held our punch, and the fiery red sparks beneath every man’s face gave note that we all loved to fortify our frames against night air by wholesome pipes and tobacco. So, presently, Stout Jem addressed us pretty nearly in this fashion: ‘Well, mates, we sit on the deck of our own craft, lawfully won from those misbegotten Spaniards, by four brave men of our own party. Now, as the capture was made before we are afloat, the vessel, by the laws of the coast, belongs to our comrades who took her, and of course they must be paid duly, when the prize-money comes to be overhauled. Meantime, the question is, shall we straightway go to sea?’ On this we all shouted—‘Yes, yes; a cruize, a cruize!’