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Updated: June 9, 2025
Henshaw stepped back, still with folded arms. "This fellow Kamasura," he announced to the crew, "has blown up the boats of the Heron. There's no doubt of it. Borgson caught him almost in the act. I could do worse things than this to Kamasura, but I've decided to flog him until he confesses." There was not a word of answer from the crew; they waited, hushed, ominous.
He sent little Kamasura and Shida, the cabin boys, running here and there saying to every man they passed: "Four hours! Four hours! Four hours!" And then: "Three hours! Three hours! Three hours!" And the crew swallowed whisky neat and returned to the fireroom. At sunset, dim as a shadow, a thing to be guessed at rather than known, the man on the bridge sighted land. The word spread like lightning.
He was staring covertly at Jerry Hovey, and now he saw the gray-blue eyes of the bos'n flash up and glance with a singular meaning at Kamasura. If he had heard every detail of the plot, Harrigan could not have understood more fully. Thereafter, every moment he spent on the Heron would be full of danger, but apparently Hovey had confided his hatred of the Irishman to Kamasura alone.
At a gesture from Henshaw, the third mate reluctantly stepped back, drawing the lash of the blacksnake slowly through his hands with a caressing touch. Van Roos, the color completely gone from his usually blooming cheeks, cut the ropes, and Kamasura rose, facing the captain. He extended a naked, trembling arm toward Hovey. "Mutiny!" he yelled.
Even this ceased at length, and the quivering of the body stopped. Kamasura leaned over and slipped his hand under the body in the region of the heart. When he straightened up again, he made a gesture of finality with his crimsoned hands. The mate was dead. They cut his body loose at once and pitched him over the rail, then turned their attention to Van Roos.
Once more it whirled, and this time merely cracked in the air. Again and again an idle snap in the air. Broken by that grim suspense, Borgson yelled in terror. Kamasura laughed and glanced at the circle of sailors like a ringmaster in a circus in search of applause.
He showed he was guilty right off the bat by yellin' for mercy." "Captain, captain!" screamed Kamasura. "Lies, lies-all lies. I go down the deck " The heavy hand of Eric Borgson smashed against Kamasura's mouth. The Jap sagged back, was jerked upright, and the mate's clubbed fist jarred home again. "Lies, are they?" thundered Borgson. "I'll teach you to say that word to Eric Borgson, ha!"
Now we're sure they can't slip out any quick wireless call that would bring a dozen ships after us. Bad news and good news together; and here's some more of the same kind. "Henshaw has made up his mind to give Kamasura the whip. You know what that means? Well, I'll tell you.
Does that help any?" "Ah-h," whispered the Jap and drew in his breath sharply with delight. "I might start the boys I might turn them loose on the ship," went on Hovey, "but the time ain't come yet for that. We're too far from the coast. Whatever happens, Kamasura, can you promise me to keep your face shut about the mutiny?" "Yes-s." "Even if they was to tie you up an' feed you the lash?
Henshaw's equal to that." Kamasura stammered, hesitated. "Don't make no mistake," said Hovey fiercely, "because we'll be standin' close, some of us, an' the first tune you open your damned mouth, we'll bash your head in. Get me?" The entrance of Eric Borgson made it impossible for the Jap to answer with words, but his eyes were eloquent with promise.
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