Part 29 (1/2)
”They may.”
”And she'll be rather short-handed for men,” observed Donovan.
”That's too true.”
”Then what are the chances of her getting back here for us?” cried Wade.
_Bang!_ from the great white ma.s.s of bulging canvas now fairly opposite us. The smoke drifted out of her bows. We could hear the rattle of her blocks, the swash of the sea, and the roar of sails; and, quite distinct on the fresh breeze, the gruff commands to reload.
”Capt. Mazard won't leave us here if he lives and has his liberty,”
said Raed.
”Oh, he'll come back if he can!” exclaimed Donovan. ”He's true blue!”
”But what if he can't,” Kit observed quietly. ”What a situation for us! Here we are a thousand miles from a civilized town or a civilized people, and in a worse than trackless wilderness! The season, too, is pa.s.sing. The straits will soon be closed with ice.”
”Only think of it!” Wade cried out,--”here on this frozen coast, with winter coming on! In a month it will be severe weather here. We've nothing but our cloth clothing!”
Wade turned away; and for many minutes we were all silent.
_Bang!_
”Come, fellows!” Raed exclaimed at length. ”This won't do! Wade has got the gloomiest side out! Come, rally from this! See, they're not gaining on the schooner! Look how she's bowling away! They haven't hit her yet. Kit! Was.h.!.+ I say, fellows, it looks a little bad, I own. But never say die; or, if you must die,--why, die game. That's the doctrine you are always preaching, Kit. Isn't it, now? Tell me!”
”But to be frozen or starved to death among these desolate ledges!”
muttered Kit.
”Is not a cheery prospect, I'll admit,” Raed finished for him. ”Rather trying to a fellow's philosophy, isn't it?”
_Bang!_
”She isn't hit yet,” remarked Donovan, who had taken Raed's gla.s.s.
”She slides on gay as a cricket. I can see the cap'n throwing water with the skeet against the sails to make 'em draw better.”
”How, for Heaven's sake, did that s.h.i.+p come to get up so near before they saw her?” Kit exclaimed suddenly.
We looked off to the west. The dozen straggling islets beyond us extended off in irregular order toward the north-west.
”I think,” said Raed, ”that the s.h.i.+p must have come up a little to the south of those outer islands. Our folks could not have seen her, then, till she came past.”
”I don't call that the same s.h.i.+p that fired on us a week ago,”
Weymouth remarked.
”Oh, no!” said Kit. ”That s.h.i.+p, 'The Rosamond,' can't more than have reached the nearest of the Company's trading-posts by this time.”
”She probably spoke this s.h.i.+p coming out, and told them to be on the lookout for us,” said Raed.
”Old Red-face doubtless charged them to give us particular fits,” Kit replied.