"Look here, Mr. Christian, I don't want to lose any time in this damned place—you understand? Get everything on board as quickly as you can and get away again."
"Afraid we shan't get any wind, sir, just yet," answered the mate.
"Damn the wind! There never was any damned wind when you want it here. We must work her in through the reef the best way we can. If we can't do anything else we must tow her."
"Aye, aye, sir!" And the mate went forward and helped clear away the boat, which was hoisted over the side and passed aft so she would tow astern. The little canoe was slowly nearing us, but was yet a good distance away. I saw a thin black line on the water astern of us, and presently a puff of wind ruffled the sea and the schooner began to fill and gather away. The woman in the canoe waved her red rag and shouted, but the schooner stood on and swept passed her quite close—and I noticed there was a little piccaninny in the bottom of the canoe amongst a lot of bananas, yams, and a dead pig.
Dane waved his hand to the woman, and then turned all his attention to the schooner, which he piloted through the opening in the reef and brought to anchor a few hundred yards from the shore in perfectly still water, so clear that you could easily see the seaweed and the white sand of the bottom.
"Man the boat, Mr. Christian!" called out the captain.
"Three hands lay aft there!"
"Don't allow a soul aboard, d'ye hear?"
"Aye, aye, sir!" Then turning to me the mate said, "That'll do the wheel! That'll do the wheel, sir," and I walked forward.
As I passed along the alley-way, a hand came out of one of the cabin windows and caught me by the leg. "Has the captain gone ashore?"
