The golden pool : $b A story of a forgotten mineFreeman, R. Austin (Richard Austin)
General
The golden pool : $b A story of a forgotten mine
Freeman, R. Austin (Richard Austin)
British -- Africa -- Fiction; Mines and mineral resources -- Fiction
“Come, tumble up, my man; I’ve got under way.”
“One moment, sir, while I make all fast,” I replied, for I was just
lowering and securing my mast.
When I had done this, I lashed the tiller over a little to give the
canoe a cast off from the vessel, so that she should tow clear without
bumping, and then I secured the well cover, as she would splash a good
deal while towing, and might take in a serious amount of water.
“Now then!” shouted the officer impatiently, “are you going to be all
night there? Here, give me the lantern and let’s have a look at him.”
I hauled on the painter and got on to the ladder, up which I ran
nimbly. As my head came above the bulwark rail, a lantern flashed full
in my face, and a startled voice exclaimed--
“Good God!”
The lantern was slapped down on the deck, there was a stamping of
feet, and with a simultaneous bang, the forecastle scuttle and the
doors of the companion hatch were slammed to. When I recovered from
the blinding glare of the lantern and looked around, the deck was
deserted.
I was struck dumb with amazement, but there was no time to marvel at
this astonishing conduct of the ship’s company. The pursuing canoe
must be close up by now, and I must look to the safety of my treasure.
Running across the deck, I looked out over the lee rail. The fishing
canoe could be dimly seen a little distance away on the lee-bow,
turning round and evidently making ready either to cross our bows or
run alongside under our lee, and her crew were hailing the brig
lustily. Now my canoe was towing on the weather side, so it was
important that the pursuers should be prevented from crossing our
bows, or they might dash alongside, cut my painter, and be off with
the freighted canoe towards the shore, whither we could not follow
them. So I took hold of the deserted wheel and put the helm a little
up, bringing the brig back on her course (for she was nearly
broaching-to); I then kept it up so that she fell off a little more,
and so headed straight for the fishing-canoe.
By this manœuvre I not only ascertained beforehand which side the
fishermen intended to board us, but left myself the means of dodging
them on either side; for if they crossed our bows I could up helm and
run before the wind, leaving them on the weather quarter, and luffing
back gradually as they fell astern; while if they tried to run
alongside under our lee, I could luff suddenly and leave them on the
lee quarter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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