“Did you fellers hear me?” asked Mr. Gull, coming toward Martin and the rest of us.

“Harkee, Mr. Gull,” said the Scot, “d’ye mean we can clear ef the wessel don’t suit? Is that the lay o’ it? She’s a fine ship, Mr. Gull, an’ fer me ye can lay to it. I’d never leave her, unless it’s the wish o’ the matchless officers that commands her.”

“If you drunkards ain’t aboard again by eight bells to-night, it’ll be a sorry crowd that’ll come next day,--an’ ye can lay to that, ye fine Scotchman, an’ with just as much scope as ye may care for.”

Big Jones smiled as he unbent the boat tackle. It was evident our second mate was not as big a fool as he looked, but it seemed strange we should be allowed ashore unless the captain had good reason to believe we could be back aboard again. Only a few minutes before we were planning some desperate means of reaching the beach, and now the 93invitation was offered to all who cared to avail themselves of the captain’s liberality.

In a very short time the boat was overboard, and a liberty crew, consisting of Martin, Tim, Big Jones, Bill, Anderson, a Norwegian of Gull’s watch, a German called Ernest, the black cook, and myself, jumped into her and started off.

“If I come back again,” said Jones, “they’ll need a good, strong heavy man over there or a pair o’ mules to drag me.”

“Good-bye,” said Bill. “Youst keep awake when we come alongside. ’Twould be a pity to rouse you,” and he grinned knowingly at the men who leaned over the rail to see us depart.

I saw the old rascal Watkins come out in the waist and stand a moment gazing after us, and Ernest bawled out a taunt in German which none of us understood. Then we shot out of hearing and headed for the landing, as wild for the beach as so many apprentices.

The “Doctor,” who was a most powerful nigger, grinned in anticipation of the joys on the shore. His clothes were nondescript and bore evidence of the galley, and his feet were big, black, and bare.

“Yah, yah, yah!” he laughed, “my feet is laughin’ at my pore ole body, all rags and grease. Dey’ll hab a time asho’. Ain’t seen no green grass lately.”

94The boat was run upon the coral, and all hands sprung out without waiting to shove her up. We splashed ashore through the shallow water, leaving the Doctor to haul the boat up and make her fast. It was evident he intended going back aboard, but we were a bit differently inclined.

The black soon joined us and led the way to the nearest rum-shop, the place all sailors steer for, and, without comment, we filed into the dirty hole for our first drink.

“I says, Thunderbo’, give us disha stuff they says do a nigger good,” said the Doctor, who acted as our pilot. “My feet is sure laffin at my belly, Thunderbo’, ’cause it’s as empty as yo’ haid.”

Thunderbore, who was a huge, nautical-looking pirate as black as the Doctor, showed a set of white teeth and a large jar of a vile fluid which fairly tore my throat to ribbons as I swallowed my “whack.” Big Jones took his with a grimace, and was followed by Martin and the rest until all had drunk.

The stuff was pure fire, but the Doctor gulped a full half-pint, and smacked his lips.

“Thunderbo’, yo’ sho’ ain’t gwine to make a po’ nigger drink sech holy water as disha. Give us somethin’ that’ll scratch, yo’ ape, or I’ll have to take charge here,--I sho’ will,” said the Doctor.

Thunderbore had a good temper, but was used to 95dealing with all classes of desperadoes. He passed the jar again, and drew a Spanish machete or corn-knife from his belt. He reached over and smote the Doctor playfully a blow with the flat of it that sounded with a loud clap through the dirty den.

Some of the men laughed in derision, but the Doctor showed his ugly teeth and glared at the den-keeper. He took another drink, and the fiery liquid began to show its effects. Even Martin’s eyes looked queer after a second taste, and he edged toward the huge, smiling African who held the jar and knife.

“I weel ken ye a murderer by yer eye,” said he, “but dare ye lay aside the steel an’ stand forth, I’ll trim ye, ye black ape. I’ll trim ye for th’ sake o’ the good wittles the Doctor has cooked.”

The pernicious effect of the liquor was showing in the men’s faces. Even I, temperate and peacefully disposed as I always am, began to feel a desire to assert myself in a manner not in keeping with my usual modesty. In fact, there were some there who were so drunk they actual............