I crawled up the sand and lay stupidly all night, nor thought--nay
hardly wished--to see another morning dawn. The blackamoors that
rampaged in this island would surely finish me if disease did not,
though indeed some had been along the beach when we came in and did us
no harm.
Toward noon as I sat under a tree feeling indeed that I was sinking to
my end, there came one of the negroes to me. He was a very tall man
with a sort of twisted face, the jib of his chin being thrust somewhat
to the side rather than in front, which did not make him look pretty.
But he wore breeches and a torn shirt, while in his belt was stuck a
sailor’s dirk, which was a great wonderment to me. If he were a vulture
he should find but bony carrion.
“Hello, Jack!”