British -- Oceania -- Fiction; Missionaries -- Fiction
"We will give him half an hour to deliver up the arms. If they are not
here then, his other mast will go. He will bring them over himself."
The little eyes glared furiously round, but found nothing but grimmest
determination in the faces that hemmed him in. Possibly they did not
fail to note all the other points bearing on the question. He shambled
to the side with a growl in his throat, and got heavily into his boat,
and was pulled across to his ship, and immediately they heard the
simmering of a hot discussion tipped with sharp flakes of invective.
"They don't like it," said Captain Cathie.
The minutes passed. Now and again a scowling face turned their way,
and shot a venomous white-eyed glance at them, but there were no signs
of the arms coming over.
"Five minutes more," shouted Cathie at last, bubbling with excitement,
and clapping the breech of his gun. "And, my goodness, I hope you'll
run it out! I want that other mast," he added softly.
"Five minutes more," shouted Stuart in Spanish, so that there should be
no misunderstanding.
Cathie stood watch in one hand, lanyard in the other, one foot tapping
restlessly. He hungered for that other mast, and the lesson its fall
would teach the yellow dogs.
At last he closed his watch with a snap, stooped to the gun, and with a
roar and a rattling crash, and a blasphemous scatteration below, the
foretopmast shared the devastation of the mainmast.
"Now we have them right as a trivet," said Cathie, "and they'll begin
to understand where they are."
They understood, and five minutes later the boat shoved off again,
bringing the spoils of war, such part of them, at all events, as they
chose to surrender--some thirty muskets, as many cutlasses, and half a
dozen revolvers.
"Now," said Blair, to the downcast captain of the _Blackbirder_,
through Stuart, "you will stop here. We shall tow you back to the
islands. When your cargo is discharged, you will be at liberty to go.
If you ever return on this errand, you will find us waiting for you.
Now, captain," to Cathie, and, at a sign from the captain, one of the
white whale-boats dropped to the water, and half a dozen men jumped
into her, carrying the coil of a stout hawser, which ran out over the
stern of the _Torch_ and was secured amidships.
The _Torch_ herself swung into line ahead of the other, and the big
steel gun swung slowly round till her muzzle grinned threateningly
round each side of the mainmast.
"Tell those men to get back, Stuart, and say the captain waits with
us," and the brig's boat pushed sulkily off. "Now, Stuart, you come
with me, and Matti. We will take revolvers, though we shall not need
them."
Matti shivered into the boat, and Stuart and Blair followed with four
Torches carrying Winchesters, and pulled to the brig and climbed up
among the truculent crew, every man of which had his knife at his back
and hands that itched to get using it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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