So the Master Mariner was brought forth, and thrown brutally against a
mast. The pirate chief put his arms akimbo, cleared his throat savagely,
and roared, "So you thought you were going to punish me, did you! Well,
I'll show you what happens to people who upset my plans. Here, Hawk Eye,
and you, Toby, throw this fellow overboard."
Hearing this awful order, the Princess screamed and would have run to
the Master Mariner, had not rude hands restrained her.
Splash! the Mariner fell into the inky sea. Swift as a bird, his own
ship went by him; he saw the mocking face of the pirate chief leering at
him from over the rail; in a few minutes he was alone, all, all alone in
the wide, wide sea. For some time he swam about, and by great good luck
discovered a log of wood strong enough to bear his weight, floating near
at hand. Upon this he climbed, and there we shall leave him for the
present.
When the Captain had disappeared from sight miles behind, the pirate
chief walked over to the Princess, and looking at her, said sneeringly,
"Well, my beauty, are you going to make up your mind to be the wife of
the King of the Oyster Mountains? I'm taking you to him, and mind now,
no fooling!"
The Princess shrank from him with horror, and as she fell back, the sun
gleamed on the silver fish she was wearing at her throat. The chief made
a rude snatch at it; the Princess, however, was quicker than he, and hit
him a good box on the ear.
"Ow!" cried the chief, dancing up and down with rage. "I'll fix you, you
ill-tempered minx. Here, somebody, tie this girl to the mast for the
rest of the day, and give her nothing but bread and water."
In obedience to his order, the Princess, with her arms tied by the
wrists behind her back, was lashed to the mast. When she had been
securely bound, the chief, whose ear was still tingling, took the silver
fish. He was looking at it when he saw something which made him drop the
fish on the deck.
Out of the forecastle door thick clouds of black mist were rolling,
exactly as if the hold of the ship were on fire. For a meddlesome pirate
had found the leather bag of storm-wind and had opened it, mistaking it
for a bag of wine.
The strange clouds, swirling round the deck, grew instant by instant
darker and denser. Soon the tops of the masts could no longer be
distinguished. The sun took on a horrible copper hue, and the sea became
a mottled black and green. A howling wind arose.
A moment later, with the violence of an explosion, the storm burst.
Mountain-high rose the glassy white-capped waves. The lightning fell in
violet cataracts, and thunder roared and tumbled through the caverns of
the sky. An ocean of hissing rain fell into the waters.
Suddenly the pirate chief, as he staggered down the stairs, shouted, "We
are lost!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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