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Updated: May 1, 2025
Thurstane thought of Clara, covered his face with his hands, and sobbed aloud. Texas Smith stared at him with a kind of contemptuous pity, and offered such consolation as it was in his nature to give. "Capm, when they've got through this job they'll travel." The hideous prelude continued for half an hour.
He turned and presented his rifle; just then, too, a protecting volley burst from the rampart; another Apache fell, and the rest retreated. "Capm, it's all right," said Texas, as he reascended the ruin. "We're squar with 'em." "We might have broken it up," returned Thurstane sullenly. "No, Capm. You don't know 'em. They'd got thar noses p'inted to torture that gal.
"Loser goes first," said Glover, producing a copper. "Heads or tails?" "Heads," guessed Thurstane. "It's a tail. Catch hold, Capm. Slow 'n' easy till you get over." The cord holding firm, Thurstane reached the bowlder, and was presently joined by Glover. "Liftinant, I want me bagonet," cried Sweeny. "Will I go up afther it?" "How the dickens 'd you git down again?" asked Glover.
But can't help it. Night travellin' ain't suited to our boat. Suthin' like a bladder football: one pin-prick 'd cowallapse it. Wal, so we'll settle. Lucky we wanted our blankets to set on. 'Pears to me this rock's a leetle harder'n a common deck plank. Unroll the boat, Capm? Wal, guess we'd better. Needs dryin'a speck. Too much soakin' an't good for canvas.
There's a hole blowed through a forty foot rock 's clean 's though 'twas done with Satan's own field-piece, sech 's Milton tells about. An' there's a steeple higher 'n our big one in Fair Haven. An' there's a church, 'n' a haystack. If the devil hain't done his biggest celebratin' 'n' carpenterin' 'n' farmin' round here, d'no 's I know where he has done it. Beats me, Capm; cleans me out.
But the chance of combat was even; the certainty of being slaughtered after it by the soldiers was depressing; and, what was more immediately to the point, he was cowed by that stare of habitual authority. "Capm I don't," he said, watching the officer with the eye of a lynx, for, however unwilling to fight as things were, he meant to defend himself.
Capm want to ask you one thing: Muss I be carried to the skies on flow'ry bedge of ease while Garnet fighss to win the prise 'n' sails through bloody seas? Sing that, Capm! I'll line it! You sing it!" Shotwell sang; his companion wept. So they closed their sad festivities; not going to bed, but sleeping on their arms, like the stern heroes they were.
"Capm, I feel's though Heaven'd strike me if I should eat your victuals," he whispered, his voice having failed him. "I feel a sort o' superstitious 'bout it. I want to die with a clear conscience." But when they rose his strength gave out entirely, and he dropped down fainting. "Now ate yer mate," said Sweeny, in a passion of pity and anxiety. "Ate yer mate an' stand up to yer marchin'."
"Fust time I ever sailed on canvas. Great notion. Don't draw more'n three inches. Might sail acrost country with it. Capm, it's the only boat ever invented that could git down this blasted river." Glover and Sweeny, two of the most talkative creatures on earth, chattered much to each other.
Wal, Capm, fust thing is to fish up a bit 'f driftwood 'n' whittle out 'nother paddle. Want a boat-pole, too, like thunder. We're awful short 'f spars for a long voyage." His lively mind had hardly dismissed this subject before he remarked: "Dum cur'ous that towline breaking. I overhauled every foot on't. I'd a bet my bottom fo'pence on its drawin' ten ton.
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