“Sound trumpets, ho!--weigh anchor--loosen sail--
The seaward-flying banners chide delay;
As if't were heaven that breathes this kindly gale,
Our life-like bark beneath it speeds away.--”
PINKNEY.
The stout ship Crisis had, like certain persons, done a good thing
purely by chance, Had her exploit happened in the year 1519, instead of
that of 1800, the renowned passage we had just escaped from would
have been called the Crisis Straits, a better name than the mongrel
appellation it now bears; which is neither English, nor Portuguese. The
ship had been lost, like a man in the woods, and came out nearer home,
than those in her could have at all expected. The “bloody currents”
had been at the bottom of the mistake, though this time they did good,
instead of harm. Any one who has been thoroughly lost on a heath, or in
a forest, or, even in a town, can comprehend how the head gets turned on
such occasions, and will understand the manner in which we had mystified
ourselves.
I shall remember the feelings of delight with which I looked around me,
as the ship passed out into the open ocean, to my dying day. There lay
the vast Pacific, its long, regular waves rolling in towards the coast,
in mountain-like ridges, it is true, but under a radiant sun, and in
a bright atmosphere. Everybody was cheered by the view, and never did
orders sound more pleasant in my ears, than when the captain called out,
in a cheerful voice, “to man the weather braces.” This command was given
the instant it was prudent; and the ship went foaming past the last cape
with the speed of a courser. Studding-sails were then set, and, when
the sun was dipping, we had a good offing, were driving to the northward
under everything we could carry, and had a fair prospect of an excellent
run from the neighbourhood of Terra del Fuego, and its stormy seas.
It is not my intention to dwell on our passage along the western coast
of South America. A voyage to the Pacific was a very different thing in
the year 1800, however, from what it is to-day. The power of Spain was
then completely in the ascendant, intercourse with any nation but the
mother country, being strictly prohibited. It is true, a species of
commerce, that was called the “forced trade on the Spanish Main” existed
under that code of elastic morals, which adapts the maxim of “your
purse or your life” to modern diplomacy, as well as to the habits of
the highwayman. According to divers masters in the art of ethics now
flourishing among ourselves, more especially in the atmosphere of the
journals of the commercial communities, the people that “_can_ trade
and _won't_ trade, _must be made to trade_.” At the commencement of the
century, your mercantile moralists were far less manly in the avowal of
their sentiments, though their practices were in no degree wanting in
the spirit of our more modern theories. Ships were fitted out, armed,
and navigated, on this just principle, quite as confidently and
successfully as if the tongue had declared all that the head had
conceived.
Guarda-Costas were the arguments used, on the other side of this knotty
question, by the authorities of Spain; and a very insufficient argument,
on the whole, did they prove to be. It is an old saying, that vice is
twice as active as virtue; the last sleeping, while the former is hard
at work. If this be true of things in general, it is thrice true as
regards smugglers and custom-house officers. Owing to this circumstance,
and sundry other causes, it is certain that English and American vessels
found the means of plundering the inhabitants of South America, at the
period of which I am writing, without having recourse to the no longer
reputable violence of Dampier, Wood, Rogers, or Drake. As I feel bound
to deal honestly with the reader, whatever I may have done by the
Spanish laws, I shall own that we made one or two calls, as we proceeded
north, shoving ashore certain articles purchased in London, and taking
on board dollars, in return for our civility. I do not know whether I
am bound, or not, to apologize for my own agency in these irregular
transactions--regular, would be quite as apposite a word--for, had I
been disposed to murmur, it would have done my morals no good, nor the
smuggling any harm. Captain Williams was a silent man, and it was
not easy to ascertain precisely what he _thought_ on the subject of
smuggling; but, in the way of _practice_, I never saw any reason to
doubt that he was a firm believer in the doctrine of Free Trade. As for
Marble, he put me in mind of a certain renowned editor of a well-known
New York journal, who evidently thinks that all things in heaven and
earth, sun, moon, and stars, the void above and the caverns beneath us,
the universe, in short, was created to furnish materials for newspaper
paragraphs; the worthy mate, just as confidently believing that coasts,
bays, inlets, roadsteads and havens, were all intended by nature, as
means to run goods ashore wherever the duties, or prohibitions, rendered
it inconvenient to land them in the more legal mode. Smuggling, in
his view of the matter, was rather more creditable than the regular
commerce, since it required greater cleverness.
I shall not dwell on the movements of the Crisis, for the five months
that succeeded her escape from the Straits of Magellan. Suffice it to
say, that she anchored at as many different points on the coast; that
all which came up the main-hatch, went ashore; and all that came
over the bulwarks, was passed down into the run. We were chased by
_guarda-costas_ seven times, escaping from them on each occasion, with
ease; though we had three little running fights. I observed that Captain
Williams was desirous of engaging these emissaries of the law, as easily
as possible, ordering us to fire altogether at their spars. I have since
thought that this moderation proceeded from a species of principle that
is common enough--a certain half-way code of right and wrong--which
encouraged him to smuggle, but which caused him to shrink from taking
human life. Your half-way rogues are the bane of honesty.
After quitting the Spanish coast, altogether, we proceeded north, with
the laudable intention of converting certain quantities of glass-beads,
inferior jack-knives, frying-pans, and other homely articles of the same
nature, into valuable furs. In a word, we shaped our course for that
district which bids fair to set the mother and daughter by the ears, one
of these days, unless it shall happen to be disposed of _à la Texas_,
or, what is almost as bad, _à la Maine_, ere long. At that time the
whole north-west coast was unoccupied by white men, and I felt no
scruples about trading with the natives who presented themselves with
their skins as soon as we had anchored, believing that they had the best
right to the country and its products. We passed months in this traffic,
getting, at every point where we stopped, something to pay us for our
trouble.
We went as far north as 53°, and that is pretty much all I ever knew of
our last position. At the time, I thought we had anchored in a bay on
the main land, but I have since been inclined to think it was in one
of the many islands that line that broken coast. We got a very secure
berth, having been led to it by a native pilot who boarded us several
leagues at sea, and who knew enough English to persuade our captain that
he could take us to a point where sea-otter skins might be had for the
asking. Nor did the man deceive us, though a more unpromising-looking
guide never had charge of smuggling Christians. He carried us into a
very small bay, where we found plenty of water, capital holding-ground,
and a basin as smooth as a dock. But one wind--that which blew from the
north-west--could make any impression on it, and the effects of
even that were much broken by a small island that lay abreast of the
entrance; leaving good passages, on each side of it, out to sea. The
basin itself was rather small, it is true, but it did well enough for a
single ship. Its diameter may have been three hundred yards, and I never
saw a sheet of natural water that was so near a circle. Into a place
like this, the reader will imagine, we did not venture without taking
the proper precautions. Marble was sent in first, to reconnoitre and
sound, and it was on his report that Captain Williams ventured to take
the ship in.
At that time, ships on the North-West Coast had to use the greatest
precautions against the treachery and violence of the natives. This
rendered the size of our haven the subject of distrust; for, lying in
the middle of it, where we moored, we were barely an arrow's flight from
the shore, in every direction but that which led to the narrow entrance.
It was a most secure anchorage, as against the dangers of the sea, but
a most insecure one as against the dangers of the savages. This we all
felt, as soon as our anchors were down; but, intending to remain only
while we bartered for the skins which we had been told were ready
for the first ship that should offer, we trusted to vigilance as our
safeguard in the interval.
I never could master the uncouth sounds of the still more uncouth
savages of that distant region. The fellow who carried us in had a name
of his own, doubtless, but it was not to be pronounced by a Christian
tongue, and he got the _sobriquet_ of the Dipper from us, owing to the
manner in which he ducked at the report of our muskets, which had been
discharged by Marble merely with the intention to renew the cartridges.
We had hardly got into the little basin, before the Dipper left us,
returning in an hour, however, with a canoe loaded to the water's edge,
with beautiful skins, and accompanied by three savages as wild-looking,
seemingly as fierce, and certainly as avaricious as he was himself.
These auxiliaries, through various little circumstances, were known
among us that same afternoon, by the several appellations of Smudge,
Tin-pot, and Slit-nose. These were not heroic names, of a certainty, but
their owners had as little of the heroic in their appearance, as
usually falls to the lot of man in the savage state. I cannot tell the
designation of the tribes to which these four worthies belonged, nor do
I know any more of their history and pursuits than the few facts which
came under my own immediate observation. I did ask some questions of the
captain, with a view to obtain a few ideas on this subject, but all
he knew was, that these people put a high value on blankets, beads,
gun-powder, frying-pans, and old hoops, and that they set a remarkably
low price on sea-otter skins, as well as on the external coverings
of sundry other animals. An application to Mr. Marble was still less
successful, being met by the pithy answer that he was “no naturalist,
and knew nothing about these critturs, or any wild beasts, in general.”
Degraded as the men certainly were, however, we thought them quite
good enough to be anxious to trade with them. Commerce, like misery,
sometimes makes a man acquainted with strange bed-fellows.
I had often seen our own Indians after they had become degraded by their
intercourse with the whites and the use of rum, but never had I beheld
any beings so low in the scale of the human race, as the North-Western
savages appeared to be. They seemed to me to be the Hottentots of our
own continent. Still they were not altogether without the means of
commanding our respect. As physical men they were both active and
strong, and there were gleams of ferocity about them, that all their
avarice and art could not conceal. I could not discover in their usages,
dress, or deportment, a single trace of that chivalrous honour which
forms so great a relief to the well-established cruelty of the warrior
of our own part of the continent. Then, these sea-otter dealers had some
knowledge of the use of fire-arms, and were too well acquainted with the
ships of us civilized men to have any superstitious dread of our power.
The Dipper, and his companions, sold us one hundred and thirty-three
sea-otter skins the very afternoon we anchored. This, of itself, was
thought to be a sufficient reward for the trouble and risk of coming
into this unknown basin. Both parties seemed pleased with the results
of the trading, and we were given to understand that, by remaining
at anchor, we might hope for six or eight times our present number of
skins. Captain Williams was greatly gratified with the success with
which he had already met, and having found that all the Dipper had
promised came true, he determined to remain a day or two, in his present
berth, in order to wait for more bargains. This resolution was no sooner
communicated to the savages than they expressed their delight, sending
off Tin-pot and Slit-nose with the intelligence, while the Dipper
and Smudge remained in the ship, apparently on terms of perfect
good-fellowship with everybody on board. The gentry of the North-West
Coast being flagrant thieves, however, all hands had orders to keep
a good look-out on our two guests, Captain Williams expressing his
intention to flog them soundly, should they be detected in any of their
usual light-fingered dexterity.
Marble and myself observed that the canoe, in which the messengers left
us, did not pull out to sea, but that it entered a small stream, or
creek, that communicated with the head of the bay. As there was no duty
on board, we asked the captain's permission to explore this spot; and,
at the same time, to make a more thorough examination of our haven,
generally. The request being granted, we got into the yawl, with four
men, all of us armed, and set out on our little expedition. Smudge, a
withered, grey-headed old Indian, with muscles however that resembled
whip-cord, was alone on deck, when this movement took place. He watched
our proceedings narrowly, and, when he saw us descend into the boat,
he very coolly slipped down the ship's side, and took his place in the
stern-sheets, with as much quiet dignity as if he had been captain.
Marble was a good deal of a ship's martinet in such matters, and he did
not more than half like the familiarity and impudence of the procedure.
“What say you, Miles,” he asked, a little sharply, “shall we take this
dried ourang-outang ashore with us, or shall we try to moisten him a
little, by throwing him overboard'!”
“Let him go, by all means, Mr. Marble. I dare say the man wishes to be
of use, and he has only a bad manner of showing it.”
“Of use! He is worth no more than the carcase of a whale that has been
stripped of its blubber. I say, Miles, there would be no need of the
windlass to heave the blanket off of this fish!”
This professional witticism put Marble in good humour with himself, and
he permitted the fellow to remain. I remember the thoughts that passed
through my mind, as the yawl pulled towards the creek, on that occasion,
as well as if it had all occurred yesterday. I sat looking at the
semi-human being who was seated opposite, wondering at the dispensation
of Divine Providence which could leave one endowed with a portion of the
ineffable; nature of the Deity, in a situation so degraded. I had seen
beasts in cages that appeared to me to be quite as intelligent, and
members of the diversified family of human caricatures, or of the
baboons and monkeys, that I thought were quite as agreeable objects to
the eye. Smudge seemed to be almost without ideas. In his bargains, he
had trusted entirely to the vigilance of the Dipper, whom we supposed to
be some sort of a relation; and the articles he received in exchange
for his skins, failed to arouse in his grim, vacant countenance, the
smallest signs of pleasure. Emotion and he, if they had been acquainted,
now appeared to be utter strangers to each other; nor was this apathy in
the least like the well-known stoicism of the American Indian; but had
the air of downright insensibility. Yet this man assuredly had a soul,
a spark of the never-dying flame that separates man from all the other
beings of earth!
The basin in which the Crisis lay was entirely fringed with forest. The
trees in most places even overhung the water, forming an impenetrable
screen to everything inland, at the season when they were in leaf. Not a
sign of a habitation of any sort was visible; and, as we approached the
shore, Marble remarked that the savages could only resort to the place
at the moments when they had induced a ship to enter, in order to trade
with them.
“No--no,” added the mate, turning his head in all directions, in
order to take a complete survey of the bay; “there are no wigwams, or
papooses, hereabouts. This is only a trading-post; and luckily for us,
it is altogether without custom-house officers.”
“Not without smugglers, I fancy, Mr. Marble, if contriving to get other
people's property without their knowledge, can make a smuggler. I never
saw a more thorough-looking thief than the chap we have nick-named the
Dipper. I believe he would swallow one of our iron spoons, rather than
not get it!”
“Ay, there's no mistake about him, 'Master Mile,' as Neb calls you. But
this fellow here, hasn't brains enough to tell his own property from
that of another man. I would let him into our bread-lockers, without
any dread of his knowing enough to eat. I never saw such a vacancy in a
human form; a down-east idiot would wind him up in a trade, as handily
as a pedlar sets his wooden clocks in motion.”
Such was Marble's opinion of the sagacity of Mr. Smudge; and, to own
the truth, such, in a great measure, was my own. The men laughed at the
remarks--seamen are a little apt to laugh at chief-mates' wit--and their
looks showed how thoroughly they coincided with us in opinion. All this
time, the boat had been pushing ahead, and it soon reached the mouth of
the little creek.
We found the inlet deep, but narrow and winding. Like the bay itself,
it was fringed with trees and bushes, and this in a way to render it
difficult to get a view of anything on the land; more especially as
the banks were ten or fifteen feet in height. Under the circumstances,
Marble proposed that we should land on both sides of the creek, and
follow its windings on foot, for a short distance, in order to get a
better opportunity to reconnoitre. Our dispositions were soon made.
Marble and one of the boat's crew, each armed, landed on one side of
the inlet, while Neb and myself, similarly provided, went ashore on the
other. The two remaining men were ordered to keep abreast of us in the
boat, in readiness to take us on board again, as soon as required.
“Leave that Mr. Smudge in the boat, Miles,” Marble called out across the
creek, as I was about to put foot on the ground. I made a sign to that
effect to the savage, but when I reached the level ground on the top of
the bank, I perceived the fellow was at my elbow. It was so difficult to
make such a creature understand one's wishes, without the aid of speech,
that, after a fruitless effort or two to send him back by means of
signs, I abandoned the attempt, and moved forward, so as to keep the
whole party in the desired line. Neb offered to catch the old fellow
in his arms, and to carry him down to the yawl; but I thought it more
prudent to avoid anything like violence. We proceeded, therefore,
accompanied by this escort.
There was nothing, however, to excite alarm, or awaken distrust. We
found ourselves in a virgin forest, with all its wildness, dampness,
gloomy shadows, dead and fallen trees, and unequal surface. On my side
of the creek, there was not the smallest sign of a foot-path; and Marble
soon called out to say, he was equally without any evidences of the
steps of man. I should think we proceeded quite a mile in this manner,
certain that the inlet would be a true guide on our return. At length a
call from the boat let us know there was no longer water enough to float
it, and that it could proceed no farther. Marble and myself descended
the banks at the same moment, and were taken in, intending to return in
the yawl. Smudge glided back to his old place, with his former silence.
“I told you to leave the ourang-outang behind,” Marble carelessly
observed, as he took his own seat, after assisting in getting the boat
round, with its head towards the bay. “I would rather have a rattlesnake
for a pet, than such a cub.”
“It is easier said than done, sir. Master Smudge stuck to me as close as
a leech.”
“The fellow seems all the better for his walk--I never saw him look half
as amiable as he does at this moment.”
Of course this raised a laugh, and it induced me to look round. For
the first time, I could detect something like a human expression in the
countenance of Smudge, who seemed to experience some sensation a little
akin to satisfaction.
“I rather think he had taken it into his head we were about to desert
the coppers,” I remarked, “and fancied he might lose his supper. Now, he
must see we are going back, he probably fancies he will go to bed on a
full stomach.”
Marble assented to the probability of this conjecture, and the
conversation changed. It was matter of surprise to us that we had met
no traces of anything like a residence near the creek, not the smallest
sign of man having been discovered by either. It was reasonable to
expect that some traces of an encampment, at least, would have been
found. Everybody kept a vigilant look-out at the shore as we descended
the creek; but, as on the ascent, not even a foot-print was detected.
On reaching the bay, there being still several hours of day-light,
we made its entire circuit, finding nowhere any proof of the former
presence of man. At length, Marble proposed pulling to the small wooded
island that lay a little without the entrance of the haven, suggesting
that it was possible the savages might have something like an encampment
there, the place being more convenient as a look-out into the offing,
than any point within the bay itself. In order to do this, it was
necessary to pass the ship; and we were hailed by the captain, who
wished to know the result of our examinations. As soon as he learned our
present object, he told us to come alongside, intending to accompany us
to the island in person. On getting into the boat, which was small and
a little crowded by the presence of Smudge, Captain Williams made a sign
for that personage to quit the yawl. He might as well have intimated
as much to one of the thwarts! Laughing at the savage's stupidity, or
obstinacy, we scarce knew which to term it, the boat was shoved off, and
we pulled through the entrance, two hundred yards outside perhaps, until
our keel grated against the low rocks of this islet.
There was no difficulty in landing; and Neb, who preceded the party,
soon gave a shout, the proof that he had made some discovery. Every
man among us now looked to his arms, expecting to meet an encampment
of savages; but we were disappointed. All that the negro had discovered
were the unequivocal traces of a former bivouac; and, judging from a
few of the signs, that of no very recent occupation. The traces were
extensive, covering quite half of the interior of the island; leaving
an extensive curtain of trees and bushes, however, so as completely to
conceal the spot from any eyes without. Most of the trees had been burnt
down, as we at first thought, in order to obtain fuel; but, farther
examination satisfied us, that it had been done as much by accident, as
by design.
At first, nothing was discovered in this encampment, which had every
appearance of not having been extensively used for years, though the
traces of numerous fires, and the signs of footsteps, and a spring
in the centre, indicated the recent occupation, of which I have just
spoken. A little further scrutiny, however, brought to light certain
objects that we did not note without much wonder and concern. Marble
made the first discovery. It was impossible for seamen to mistake the
object, which was the head of a rudder, containing the tiller-hole, and
which might have belonged to a vessel of some two hundred and fifty,
or three hundred tons. This set all hands of us at work, and, in a few
minutes we found, scattered about, fragments of plank, top-timbers,
floor-timbers, and other portions of a ship, all more or less burnt, and
stripped of every particle of metal. Even the nails had been drawn by
means of perseverance and labour. Nothing was left but the wood, which
proved to be live-oak, cedar and locust, the proofs that the unfortunate
craft had been a vessel of some value. We wanted no assurance of this,
however, as none but a North-West trader could well have got as high up
the coast, and all vessels of that class were of the best description.
Then the locust, a wood unknown to the ship-builders of Europe, gave
us the nearly certain assurance that this doomed craft had been a
countryman.
At first, we were all too much occupied with our interesting discovery
to bethink us of Smudge. At length, I turned to observe its effect on
the savage. He evidently noted our proceedings; but his feelings, if the
creature had any, were so deeply buried beneath the mask of dullness,
as completely to foil my penetration. He saw us take up fragment
after fragment, examine them, heard us converse over them, though in a
language he could not understand, and saw us throw them away, one after
another, with seemingly equal indifference. At length he brought a
half-burned billet to the captain, and held it before his eyes, as if he
began to feel some interest in our proceedings. It proved to be merely
a bit of ordinary wood, a fragment of one of the beeches of the forest
that lay near an extinguished pile; and the act satisfied us all, the
fellow did not comprehend the reason of the interest we betrayed. He
clearly knew nothing of the strange vessel.
In walking around this deserted encampment, the traces of a pathway to
the shore were found. They were too obvious to be mistaken, and led us
to the water in the passage opposite to that by which the Crisis had
been carried in by the Dipper, and at a point that was not in view from
her present anchorage. Here we found a sort of landing, and many of the
heavier pieces of the wreck; such as it had not been thought necessary
to haul up to the fires, having no metal about them. Among other things
of this sort, was a portion of the keel quite thirty feet long, the
keelson bolts, keelson, and floor-timbers all attached. This was the
only instance in which we discovered any metal; and this we found,
only because the fragment was too strong and heavy to be manageable.
We looked carefully, in all directions, in the hope of discovering
something that might give us an insight into the nature of the disaster
that had evidently occurred, but, for some time without success. At
length I strolled to a little distance from the landing, and took a seat
on a flat stone, which had been placed on the living rock that faced
most of the island, evidently to form a resting-place. My seat proved
unsteady, and in endeavouring to adjust it more to my mind, I removed
the stone, and discovered that it rested on a common log-slate. This
slate was still covered with legible writing, and I soon had the whole
party around me, eager to learn the contents. The melancholy record was
in these precise words: viz.--
“The American brig Sea-Otter, John Squires, master, _coaxed_ into this
bay, June 9th, 1797, and seized by savages, on the morning of the 11th.
Master, second-mate, and seven of the people killed on the spot. Brig
gutted first, then hauled up _here_, and burnt to the water's edge for
the iron. David King, first-mate, and six others, viz., George Lunt,
Henry Webster, Stephen Stimpson and John Harris, seamen, Bill Flint,
cook, and Peter Doolittle, boy, still living, but God only knows what is
to be our fate. I shall put this slate beneath the stone I now sit on,
in the hope it may one day let our friends learn what has happened.”--
We looked at each other, astounded. Both the captain and Marble
remembered to have heard that a brig in this trade, called the
Sea-Otter, was missing; and, here, by a communication that was little
short of miraculous, we were let into the secret of her disappearance.
“_Coaxed_ in--” repeated the captain, running his eye over the writing,
which had been thus singularly preserved, and that, in a situation where
one would think it might have been discovered a thousand times.--“Yes,
yes--I now begin to understand the whole matter. If there were any wind,
gentlemen, I would go to sea this very night.”
“That would be hardly worth our while, Captain Williams,” the chief-mate
answered, “since we are now on our guard, and I feel pretty certain that
there are no savages in our neighbourhood. So far, the Dipper and his
friends have traded with us fairly enough, and it is likely they have
more skins to dispose of. This chap, whom the people have christened
Smudge, takes matters so coolly, that I hardly think he knows anything
about the Sea-Otter, which may have been cut off by another gang,
altogether.”
There was good reason in these remarks, and they had their effect on the
captain. The latter, however, determined to put Smudge to the proof,
by showing him the slate, and otherwise bringing him under such
a cross-examination as signs alone could effect. I dare say, an
indifferent spectator would have laughed at witnessing our efforts to
confound the Indian. We made grimaces, pointed, exclaimed, hallooed,
swore, and gesticulated in vain. Smudge was as unmoved at it all, as the
fragment of keel to which he was confronted. The fellow either did not,
or would not understand us. His stupidity defied our tests; and Marble
gave the matter up in despair, declaring that “the beast knows nothing
of anything, much less of the Sea-Otter.” As for the slate, he did not
seem to have the smallest notion what such a thing meant.
We returned to the ship, carrying with us the slate, and the report
of our discoveries. All hands were called, and the captain made us
a speech. It was sufficiently to the point, though it was not in the
least, of the “God-like” character. We were told how ships were lost
by the carelessness of their crews; reminded we were on the North-West
Coast, where a vessel with a few boxes of beads and bales of blankets,
to say nothing of her gunpowder, firearms, and metals, was as valuable,
as a vessel laden with gold dust would be in one of our own ports.
Vigilance, while on watch, and obedience to the orders of the vessel, in
the event of an alarm, were the principal things dwelt on. By observing
these two great requisites, we should all be safe enough; whereas, by
disregarding them, we should probably share the fate of the people of
the brig, of which we had just discovered some of the remains.
I will confess, I passed an uncomfortable night. An unknown enemy
is always a formidable enemy; and I would rather have fought three
_guarda-costas_ at once, than lie where we did, in a bay as smooth as
a looking-glass, surrounded by forests as silent as a desert, and in a
well-armed ship, that was prepared at all points, to meet her foes, even
to her boarding-nettings.
Nothing came of it all. The Dipper and Smudge eat their supper with the
appetites of injured innocence, and slept like tops. If guilty, we
all agreed that they must be utterly destitute of consciences. As for
ourselves, we were on the alert until near morning, the very moment when
the danger would probably be the greatest, provided there were any at
all; and then weariness overcame all who were not on the look-out, and
some who were. Still, nothing happened. The sun returned to us in due
season, gilding the tree-tops with its beams; our little bay began to
bask in its glory, and with the cheerfulness that usually accompanies
such a scene, vanished most of our apprehensions for the moment. A night
of reflection had quieted our fears, and we all woke up next morning, as
indifferent to the fate of the Sea-Otter, as was at all decent.