Дні мрій
A Saga Of The Seas
ButIhadn’tcometheretopaintAcademypictures,sothecaptain’sgigwasinthewaterandmannedalmosteretheboatswain’swhistlehadceasedsounding,andwewerepullinghardforthePolarbears—myselfandtheriflesinthestern-sheets.
IhaverarelyenjoyedbettershootingthanIgotduringthatafternoon’strampovertheicebergs.PerhapsIwasinspeciallygoodform;perhapsthebears“rose”well.Anyhow,thebagwasaportentousone.Inlaterdays,onreadingofthegrowingscarcityofPolarbears,myconsciencehasprickedme;butthatafternoonIexperiencednocompunction.Nevertheless,whenthehugepileofskinshadbeenhoistedonboard,andastiffgroghadbeenservedouttothecrewofthecaptain’sgig,Iorderedtheschooner’sheadtobesetduesouth.Foricebergswereplayedout,forthemoment,anditwasgettingtobetimeforsomethingmoretropical.
Tropicalwasamildexpressionofwhatwastocome,aswasshortlyproved.Itwasaboutthreebellsinthenextday’sforenoonwatchwhenthelook-outmanfirstsightedthepiratebrigantine.Idislikedthelooksofherfromthefirst,and,afterpipingallhandstoquarters,hadthebrasscarronadeonthefore-deckcrammedwithgrapetothemuzzle.
Thisprovedawiseprecaution.Fortheflagitiouspiratecraft,havingcreptuptousunderthecoloursoftheSwissRepublic,astatewithwhichwewerejustthenonthebestpossibleterms,suddenlyshookouttheskull-and-cross-bonesathermasthead,andletflywithround-shotatclosequarters,knockingintopiecesseveralofmycrew,whocouldillbespared.
