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Updated: May 21, 2025
After all, doing nothing on an island twenty-five miles out at sea was pretty dull work. The boys had an early supper and were soon asleep. Turning out at daybreak, they despatched a hearty meal of corn-bread and bacon. Everybody but Percy took hold with the dishes and helped tidy up the camp. Shortly after sunrise they were sailing out of the cove in the Barracouta.
I saw one of the boat keepers astern catch a large barracouta, and eat it alive indeed, if I had not given the strictest orders, and flogged half-a-dozen of them, I doubt whether they would not have eaten their victuals raw to this day. The force of habit is tremendous." "It is, indeed," observed Mr Phillott, dryly, and winking to us referring to the captain's incredible stories.
Now and again a long, black shadow would sail slowly over the scene of freakish life the shadow of a passing albacore or barracouta. Instantly the shining fish would hide themselves among the shining shells, and every movement, save that of the unconsciously waving weeds, would be stilled.
Still, I thought it just barely possible that by maintaining a strict watch I might chance to detect some sign of alertness on board the brig, if she were indeed the Barracouta, as I strongly suspected.
The struggling barracouta was drawn down with them, but blindly; and the water was now utterly black with the rank ink which the monster was pumping forth. "For a few moments all was one boiling convulsion of fish and tentacles and ink, Little Sword simply stabbing and stabbing at the soft mass under his weapon. Then, all at once, the tentacles relaxed, falling away as slack as seaweed.
On the southern horizon flamed a ruddy light. Spurling gave a cry of alarm. "Boys, it's a vessel on fire!" Touched by the live wire of human sympathy, Camp Spurling came wide awake in an instant. Out there, four miles to the south, men were perhaps battling for their lives. Jim issued his orders like bullets. "Come on, boys! We'll take the Barracouta.
Behind their orderly tin camp and the electric-light poles rose those stone-dotted spurs that throw heat on Simonstown. Beneath them the little Barracouta nodded to the big Gibraltar, and the old Penelope, that in ten years has been bachelors' club, natural history museum, kindergarten, and prison, rooted and dug at her fixed moorings.
The castle of Belgica, the chief fort of Banda Neira, had been taken in an especially gallant manner the year before by Captain Cole, of the frigate "Caroline," and Captain Kenah, of the "Barracouta" sloop. Landing at night, during a violent storm, accompanied by Lieutenant Lyons and several other officers, they made their way to the rear of the citadel.
The Barracouta, he knew, was moored not fifty feet out in the black fog. Without hesitating a second Percy waded in, and soon was swimming quietly toward the sloop. He had not dared to take one of the boats, for fear the grating of her keel on the beach or the sound of her oars might betray him.
The tip of the Cassie J.'s bowsprit was less than two yards from the port bow of the Barracouta, altogether too near for comfort. "Keep off!" roared Spurling. "You'll run us down!" The steersman whirled his wheel swiftly in the apparent endeavor to avert a collision. Unluckily, he whirled it the wrong way. Round swung the schooner's bow, directly toward the sloop.
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