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Updated: June 26, 2025
They were a whole day arguing about it before they came to terms; but it ended, as we all knew that it would end, by Marah giving the other captains drink, and leading them thus to give him whatever terms he asked. The other smugglers in our boat were not very eager to work with strangers; but Marah talked them over. Only old Gateo would not listen to him.
Take this hatchet here, and go forward to the bows. When I say 'cut, you cut, without looking round. Cut the cable, see? Cut it in two, mucho pronto. And you, Hankin you, Gateo. Stand by the halliards, stretch them along ready to hoist. No. Hoist them. Don't wait. Hoist them now." One or two others lent their hands at the halliards, and the sails were hoisted.
"Give 'em the pennant," said Gateo. "Ay, give it 'em," said half-a-dozen others. "Don't let 'em wreck." "Let her go off," he cried to the helmsman. For just a moment we lay broadside on to the frigate, a fair target for her guns, so that she could see the pennant blowing out clear. "You see, Jim?" asked Marah. "That pennant means 'You are standing in to danger. Now we will luff again."
"See here," he said, putting his mouth against my ear; "look just as though nothing was happening. You see that old Gateo at the lee tiller? Well, watch him for a moment. Now look beyond his red cap at the sea. What's that? Your eyes are younger I use tobacco too much to have good eyes. What's that on the sea there?" I looked hard whenever the lugger rose up in a swell.
He was an Italian by birth, so Marah told me. He was known as Gateo. When he was sober he was a good seaman, but when he was drunk he would do nothing but sing of Captain Glen until he dropped off to sleep. He had served in the Navy, Marah told me, and had once been a boatswain's mate in the Victory; but he had deserted, and now he was a smuggler living in a hole in the earth.
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