The Pilot: A Tale of the SeaCooper, James Fenimore
History
The Pilot: A Tale of the Sea
Cooper, James Fenimore
Historical fiction; Sea stories; United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Naval operations -- Fiction; War stories
follow the retiring waters along the decks, and venture his person nigh
the group that had collected around and on the gun of the cockswain,
glances of fierce or of sullen vengeance were cast at him, that conveyed
threats of a nature that he was too much agitated to understand.
“If ye are tired of this world, though your time, like my own, is
probably but short in it,” said Tom to him, as he passed the cockswain
in one of his turns, “you can go forward among the men; but if ye have
need of the moments to foot up the reck'ning of your doings among men,
afore ye're brought to face your Maker, and hear the log-book of Heaven,
I would advise you to keep as nigh as possible to Captain Barnstable or
myself.”
“Will you promise to save me if the vessel is wrecked?” exclaimed
Dillon, catching at the first sounds of friendly interest that had
reached his ears since he had been recaptured; “Oh! If you will, I can
secure your future ease, yes, wealth, for the remainder of your days!”
“Your promises have been too ill kept afore this, for the peace of your
soul,” returned the cockswain, without bitterness, though sternly; “but
it is not in me to strike even a whale that is already spouting blood.”
The intercessions of Dillon were interrupted by a dreadful cry, that
arose among the men forward, and which sounded with increased horror,
amid the roarings of the tempest. The schooner rose on the breast of
a wave at the same instant, and, falling off with her broadside to the
sea, she drove in towards the cliffs, like a bubble on the rapids of a
cataract.
“Our ground-tackle has parted,” said Tom, with his resigned patience of
manner undisturbed; “she shall die as easy as man can make her!”--While
he yet spoke, he seized the tiller, and gave to the vessel such a
direction as would be most likely to cause her to strike the rocks with
her bows foremost.
There was, for one moment, an expression of exquisite anguish betrayed
in the dark countenance of Barnstable; but, at the next, it passed away,
and he spoke cheerfully to his men:
“Be steady, my lads, be calm; there is yet a hope of life for _you_--our
light draught will let us run in close to the cliffs, and it is still
falling water--see your boats clear, and be steady.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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