The Green Hand: Adventures of a Naval LieutenantCupples, George
General
The Green Hand: Adventures of a Naval Lieutenant
Cupples, George
Sea stories; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction; Voyages and travels -- Juvenile fiction
"For my part, I hadn't a doubt but the ship had been watched from shore
all along; and there was no saying at present _who_ might be keeping an
eye upon her, even if this affair of the French brig weren't to catch us
in some deep trick or other. If it were really she, and lying where we
caught a glimpse of her the day before, 'twould take three or four
hours, at night, even to pull there and back again; but as for her being
an ordinary pirate, I had a strong notion she was no such thing, and the
stranger I thought the whole matter throughout.
"As I peered over the bulwarks into the thick of the tall jungle, the
showers of fireflies came here and there flickering out from under the
big leaves, lighting up the green of them for a moment, and dancing
across a black mouth in the bank nearest us, like emerald sparks. By
this time, too, the starlight was growing large out over the dusk, till
the whole height of the sky had heaved itself above our upper spars,
clear as crystal, and sprinkled full of soft silver points, that
gathered and got brighter as you looked. One could see the whole breadth
of the river floating slowly between, with lazy brown swirls of current
twisting and curling round the point, and the eddies rising in the
middle, to where the water glistened among the dark wet mangrove stems,
or some oily swell near the edge went lipping in with the gleam of a
star lengthened upon it. Hot and close though the night still was, while
the rank smell of the mud came at times into our nostrils from one side,
and of growing leaves from the other, yet it was pleasant enough after
being shut up for ever so many hours in a dark hole below.
"Neither did I think there was any fear of trouble from the natives
while this lasted; but the haze that seemed to be oozing out over the
mass of woods, with now and then a cool breath of air from up-river,
showed what a fog we might expect as soon as the land-wind began to blow
strong from inland. Sometimes I fancied I heard cries in the distance
among the woods, over the croaking of the frogs which seemed to get up
as one listened; then again I could make out the hollow booming of the
African tree-drum, with a chorus of horns and savage-like shouts,
apparently filling up every break in the hum that rose off the
ground--far enough away, however, to satisfy me the blacks were only
making merry before turning in.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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