Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1902-05-17
XVII.
"PIFCES or FIGHT"

49, 70 a'l NlNAa NAA' 'AAA ANA@ 1890 'N-SN
head first into the water.
CHAPTER XVII.
PIECES OF EIGHT"
Owing to the canting OF the vessel
the masts hung far out over the wa
ter. and from my perch on the cross
trees l had nothing below me but the
surface OF the bay. Hands. who was
not so far up, was, In consequence,
nearer the ship, and fell between me
and the bulwarks. He rose once TO the
surface in n lather OF foam and blood
and then sank again for good. AS the
water settled l could see him lying
huddled together on the clean, bright
sand in the shadow of the vessels
sides. A fish or two whipped past his
body. Sometimes, by the quivering of
the water, he appeared TO move q lit
tie, as If he were trying to rise. Blu
he was lead enough, for all that, being
both shot and drowned, and was food
for fish i'm the very place where he had
designed my slaughter.
| was no oonCr certain of this than
began to feel sick, faint and terri
fed. The hot blood was running over
my back and chest. The dirk, where 1t
had pinned my shoulder to the mast,
seemed to burn like a hot iron; yet 1t
was not so much these real sutfcrings
that distressed me, for these, ii seemed
to me, | could bear without Il murmur;
it was the horror | had upon my mind
of falling from the cross-trees into
that still green water, beside the body
OF the COCkSwain.
/ chung with both hands till my
nails ached, and / shut my eyes as If
to cover up the peril. Gradually my
mind came pack again, my pulse
I4,tnfn1 1npF,D m a moro natural tinln.
and | was onCe more in possession Of
myself.
1t was my first thought TO pluck
| forth the dirk; but either it stuck too
hard or my nerve failed me, II / de-
sisted with a violent shudder. Oddly
enough that very ahudder did he
business. The knife, in fact, had come
the nearest in the world TO missing
me altogether; 1t held me by n mere
pinch Of skin, and this the shudder
tore away. The blood ran down the
faster to be sure; but l was my own
master again and only acked to the
mast by my Goa and shirt.
These last / broke through with a
sudden jerk and then regained the
deck by the ~starboard shrouds. For
nothing i'm the word would / have
again ventured, shaken as | was, upon
the overhanging port shrouds, from
which Israel had so lately fallen.
| went below and did what / could
for my wound; il panied me a great
deal and still ble2 freely; but 1T was
neither deep nor dangerous, nor did IT
greatly gall me when ] used my arm.
Then I looked around me, and as the
ship was now, in q sense, my own, |
began to think Of clearing IT from its
last passenger-the dead man, O'Brien.
He had pitched, as I have said, against
the bulWarkS, where he lay like some
horrible, ungainly sort Of puppet; life
size, indeed, but how different from
life's color or life's loneliness! In that
position / could easily have my way
with him, and as the tragical adj
ventures had worn off almost all my
terror for the dead, | took him by the
waist as If he had been a sack Of bran
and, with one good heave, tumbled him
overheard. He went in with a sounding
plunge, the red cap came off and re-
NAMED floating on the surface, and as
soon as the splash subsidized | could see
him and Israel lying side by side, both
wavering with the tremulous owe
ment OF the water. O'Brien, though
still quite a young man, was very bald.
There he lay, with that bald head
across the knees of the man who had
killed him and the quick fishes steer
ing 70 and fro over both.
/ was now alone upon The ship; the
tide had just turned. The sun was
within so few degrees of setting that
already the shadow Of the pines upon
the western shore began to reach right
across the anchorage and fall in pat
terms on the deck. The evening breeze
had sprung up, and though 1t was well
warded off by the hill with the two
peaks upon the east, the cordage had
begun to sing a little softly TO itself
and the idle sails to rattle to and fro.
/ began to see a danger to the ship.
The jibs / speedily doused and brought
tumbling to the deck; but the mainsail
was a harder matter. OF course, when
the. schooner canted over the boom had
swung out-board and the cap of 1t and
a foot or two of sail hung even under
water. / thought this made 1t still
more dangerous; yet the strain was so
heavy that l half feared to NEEDLE. At
last L got my knife and cut the hall
yards. The peak dropped instantly, a
great belly of loose canvas floeted
broad upon the water, and since, pull
as i liked, l could not bulge the down
haul, that was the extent of what /
could accomplish. For the rest, the
"Hispaniola' must trust to luck, like
myself.
BY this time the whole anchorage
had fallen into shadow-the last rays,
1 remember, falling through a glade
of the Woo and shining, bright as jew
els, on the flowery mantle Of the wreck.
1t began to be chill, the tide was rap
idly fiecting seward, the schooner set
ting more ~ more on her beam
ends.
1 scrambled forward and looked over.
1t eemed shallow enough, and, holding
the cut hawser in both hands for q last
security, l let myself drop softly over
board. The water scarcely reached my
waist, the sand was firm and covered
with ripple marks, n / waded ashore
In great spirits, leaving the "Hispani-
ola" on her side, with her mainsail
trailing wide upon the surface OF the
bay. About the same time the sun
went fairly down and the breeze whis-
tied low in the dusk among the tossing
pines.
At last, and at least, 1 was on the