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The night of the tentative production of 'Ned's Chum' at the Globe Theatre was the brightest in my earthly calendar. Yet as I waited for my first cue an irresistible, horrible cold nausea got hold of me, and I had to fly back to my dressing-room and to endure on dry land all the agonies of mal de mer.
Fortunately Ned's hands came across a big mooring ring fastened to the topside of this sheet-iron back, and we all held on for dear life. Finally this long night was over. My imperfect memories won't let me recall my every impression of it. A single detail comes back to me.
"For my part, I'm ready to go and see this new king of the Injuns, as they call him; and if he's an honest chap, and wants a helping hand, why I'm ready to give it him. Just you tell them that." I did not exactly translate Ned's message; but I told the Indians that we were anxious to see the Inca, and would be happy to be of any service to him in our power.
"Thank you for your good intentions, Rhymer," said Ned, picking up the biscuit and continuing to eat the duff on which he was engaged. O'Connor meantime went on knotting his handkerchief, and only waiting for a word from Rhymer to commence operations on Ned's back. Ned took no notice, but as soon as he had finished dinner he sprang up and made for the door of the berth.
Following the swish of each heaving wave as it lifted and swept past the boat came a heavy jar as the craft struck in the soft mud beneath her and her headway was checked. "It's all right," said the captain, in answer to Ned's look of anxiety. "I expected her to touch, but she'll pull through." No one else was alarmed, for Mr.
They were enjoying themselves. Tents were scattered about and shelters of boughs had been erected. Many soldiers were taking their siestas. Nobody was working and there was not the slightest sign that they intended to depart that day. Ned's hot tongue clove to the roof of his hot mouth, but he obstinately refused to look at the river. He did not think that he could stand another sight of it.
We're bein' captured, all right, but we ain't bein' rescued not just yet!" "Ned's somewhere about," Jack said, confidently. "He'll manage to turn us loose before long." Then through the jungle, and ringing snappingly on the clear air, came the snorting of the Manhattan's engines. At that moment she was entering the little creek which Pat had pointed out. In a moment the explosions ceased.
He was unharmed, however, for Dick had jumped between them and it was in Dick's arm that the panther's teeth were set and Dick's shoulder and side that were being raked by its cruel claws. In an instant Ned's clasp knife was being driven into the body of the beast whose throat Dick's hand was clutching in a feeble effort to keep from his face those long, sharp fangs.
"The river can't be much more than a mile ahead," said the Panther, "an' we might run into the Mexicans any minute. We're sheltered here, an' we'd better wait a while. Then I think we can do more stalkin'." Obed and Ned were not at all averse, and dismounting they stretched themselves, easing their muscles. Old Jack hunted grass and, finding none, rubbed Ned's elbow with his nose suggestively.
Retaining his hoarseness, and taking his cue from Ned's allusion to the dragoon cap, he replied: "'Tis all right. You're our man, I see. Though I don't wear the dragoon cap, I come from New York about Captain Falconer's business." "Then why the hell didn't you give the word?" said Ned, releasing his pressure upon Philip's body. "You didn't ask for it. Get up you're breaking my back."
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