TIBERIUS SMITH
in rare fettle for acting roguish, and Paul Revere would have been distanced at the first quarter had he endeavored to keep tabs on my flitting footsteps.
"Tib stood in the doorway as I blew within his ken, and he had already detected the menace. He dragged me inside and closed the portal, just as the amiable rattlesnakes beached their boats and set up a song of rancor. Then they did a little green-corn dance and set our football stars to growling with a cloud of spears and arrows. I was puzzled to know what had surfeited them with courage until Tib indicated a large bottle, affectionately clasped to the bosom of the chief. Then we detected in the middle distance a sinister-looking keg. It was obvious they had procured the fire-water from the sealer while the captain was ashore with us.
"Of course we searched the hut for trappings of war, but could find nothing more offensive than some stout clubs. 'I'm afraid it's all up if they rush us,' I soliloquized, sullenly. 'They number at least two-score.'
"Tib sighed in a minor, but made no reply until he had scanned the ice-freckled wavelets with an ancient glass. Then he observed, 'If my old eyes don't deceive me, there's a thread of smoke out yon."
"I gave a hoot of joy. It was the sealer to the rescue. 'Hurrah for the Saucy Liz!'
108
