Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 31, 2025
We were all on deck before the crew had surrounded the wheelhouse. There was a rattle of steamer folded chairs, a pounce by the third mate, and out came the unfortunate Cupples, dragged by the collar. "Hold on; let go. This is a mistake." "You can't both hold on and let go," said Stalker, of Indiana. "Come out o' this," cried the mate, jerking him forward.
The fluffy, fair hair, soaked and darkened, resembled a mean skein of cotton threads festooned round his bare skull. His face, glistening with sea-water, had been made crimson with the wind, with the sting of sprays. He looked as though he had come off sweating from before a furnace. "You here?" he muttered, heavily. The second mate had found his way into the wheelhouse some time before.
"I don't believe the 'Juanita' is anywhere on this wide ocean," muttered Eph, stifling a yawn. "It doesn't look that way," smiled Hastings. Down before the wheelhouse a bell began to sound briskly. "Eight bells; your watch, Mr. Somers," announced Hastings. "But I am going to remain on the bridge with you for a while. I want a look at that mud-hooker over yonder."
He walked over to where the mate stood, close to the wheelhouse, giving directions to the pilot of the Rainbow. "Mr. Carey, where are we bound?" he asked, respectfully. "Oh, just going to take a little sail around, to test the engine," was the apparent indifferent answer. "Is the engine out of order?" "Not exactly, but I thought it best to test the shaft. The assistant engineer thinks it is weak."
"Can you shoot?" "Not especially well, sir." "Listen to me," ordered Blythe. "Our aim must be to hold the wheelhouse and the cabins. Mr. Sedgwick, you will take Miss Wallace back to the staterooms and rally the rest of our forces. Mr. Mott is done for, I am afraid, but the rest of our friends are probably all right. Arm all of them. Get the rifles out.
At such short range, his shots could not possibly miss, and in less than a minute our bows and fore deck showed a very pretty "general average," a 6-pound shell blowing a hole through our plating and wrecking the topgallant forecastle, while several 4-pound projectiles pierced our funnel, blew away our fore topmast, and knocked one corner of the wheelhouse to smithereens.
To Roger Payne, standing beside White in the little wheelhouse, the mournful chuckle of the Southern nightingale, as it sounded time after time from the cavernous darkness of the jungle shore seemed to strike at him personally with a note of knowing mockery. The weirdness and the elusiveness of the scene seemed the inevitable ending of the strange day.
A narrow passage led around this at the curving stern, seldom used by promenaders because of certain obstructions which, in the dark, were apt to trip a person up. Chains or something went from this wheelhouse to the sides of the ship, and, being covered up by boxes of plank, made this part of the deck hard to travel on in the dark.
Therefore he thrust out his lower jaw and favored McTee with a glare of hate. He was repaid by the glow of content which showed in the captain's face. "And the hole of the Heron," he said, speaking softly lest his voice should carry to the man in the wheelhouse, "is it cooler than the fireroom of the Mary Rogers?" Harrigan glanced up, glowering. "Damn you, McTee!"
Glendenning turned round and shouted, 'What do you mean by that, you scoundrel? and caught me by the throat. She instantly sprang between us, pushing him toward the stern of the boat, and me against the wheelhouse. "'Hush, hush, she whispered; 'you mean, Mr. Howard, that my husband is there, do you not?
Word Of The Day
Others Looking