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Updated: June 5, 2025
Our loaded muskets were in our grasp, but we dared not expose our heads above the gunwales. I looked back toward the stern, and saw Moralle tying a bandage on Lavigne's wounded arm. Gummidge was bareheaded, and he told me that a ball had carried his cap into the river. "We're not done with the red devils," he added. "It's a bad scrape, Carew.
However, neither Gummidge nor I were disposed to relax the ordinary precautions, and when we retired we set one of the voyageurs to watch. This man Moralle by name awakened me about two o'clock in the morning by shaking my arm gently, and in a whisper begged me to come outside. I followed him from the lean-to across the island, which was no more than a dozen yards in diameter.
The night was very dark, and it was impossible to make out the shore, though it was less than a quarter of a mile away. A deep silence brooded on land and water. "What do you want with me?" I asked sharply. "Pardon, sir," replied Moralle, "but a little while ago, as I stood here, I heard a low splash.
"You knew they were sending her, I suppose?" "Yes, Lord Selkirk forwarded me a little water color sketch of her months ago. I am afraid there is a considerable disparity in our ages, but that can be overcome. I shall make her a good husband, and a steady one eh, Denzil?" With a forced smile, I pretended to appreciate the jest. "How is Moralle?" I asked abruptly.
I tried to speak to Flora, but my tongue seemed to be held fast. I heard a shot another and another. The bullets sang close to my ear. "Down down!" warned Gummidge. "Keep low!" shouted Moralle and Lavigne in one breath. My brain grew suddenly clear, but I did not heed the friendly advice.
"I will finish your watch, Moralle," said I. "Give me your musket, and go to bed. Be careful not to waken the others." He shuffled off without a word, and I was left to my lonely vigil. I had detected a smell of liquor in Moralle's breath, and I was disposed to believe that his story had no more foundation than the splashing of a fish.
Three redskins were dashing after him with drawn tomahawks, and I gave the poor fellow up for lost. Moralle had been carried through the cordon of savages, and had reached the farther bank. There, on the edge of the forest, he was locked limb to limb with a stalwart warrior.
Above the thunder of the falls my warning was heard and understood. Glancing back to make sure, I saw the startled faces of the two women, and the grimly-set countenance of Jim Gummidge. From the stern Moralle half-rose, looked this way and that, and made two daring strokes with the paddle. He dropped under cover again just as a volley of musket balls swept close over the canoe. "You fool!"
We called Baptiste over, and he helped to carry poor Moralle back. We put him down by the fire, which was blazing cheerily, and Gummidge started to dress his wounds. Flora was standing alongside the flames. She was shivering with cold, and her face looked blue and pinched. I made her swallow some brandy I had a flask in my pocket and the fiery liquor warmed her at once.
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