Dogs -- Fiction; Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Seafaring life -- Fiction
The cove was not defended so much by the rocks above water, for the
mouth of it was wide; but there appeared to be a ridge below, which
broke off the swell of the ocean. Neither was it deep, the beach not
being more than perhaps fifty feet from the entrance. The boats, which
had pulled in with muffled oars, here lay quietly for nearly an hour,
when a fog came on and obscured the view of the offing, which otherwise
was extensive, as the moon was at her full, and had shone bright.
"This is all the better," whispered the informer, "they will fall into
the trap at once. Hark! hist! I hear oars."
They all listened; it was true, the sound of oars was heard, and the men
prepared their arms.
The splash of the oars was now more plain. "Be silent and ready,"
whispered the informer, and the whisper was passed round. In another
minute a large lugger-built boat, evidently intended for sailing as well
as pulling, was seen through the fog looming still larger from the mist,
pulling into the cove.
"Silence, and not a word. Let her pass us," whispered the informer.
The boat approached rapidly--she was within ten fathoms of the entrance,
when Snarleyyow, hearing the sound, darted forward under the thwarts,
and jumping on the bow of the boat, commenced a most unusual and
prolonged baying of Bow wow, bow wow wow wow!
At the barking of the dog the smugglers backed water to stop their way.
They knew that there was no dog with those they expected to meet, it was
therefore clear that the Philistines were at hand. The dog barked in
spite of all attempts to prevent him, and acting upon this timely
warning, the lugger-boat pulled short round, just as lights were shown
from the cliffs to notify an enemy at hand, for the barking of the dog
had not escaped the vigilance of those on shore, and in a few seconds
she disappeared in the mist.
"Blast your cur! Five thousand pounds out of my pocket;" exclaimed the
informer. "I told you so. Chuck him overboard, my men, for your pockets
would have been lined."
Vanslyperken was as savage, and exclaimed, "Give way, my men, give way;
we'll have them yet."
"Send a cow to chase a hare," replied the informer, throwing himself
back in the stern-sheets of the boat. "I know better; you may save
yourself the trouble, and the men the fatigue. May the devil take you,
and your cursed dog with you! Who but a fool would have brought a dog
upon such an occasion? Well, I've lost five thousand pounds; but there's
one comfort, you've lost too. That will be a valuable beast, if you put
all down to his account."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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