Adventure, January 20, 1922 — page 35: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Tides of Hate forth; and as Goliath leaped into the welter- ing waist to obey the order himself, Davies drew his cutlass, sprang into the lee mizzen shrouds, and at imminent risk of being carried away by the sea deliberately slashed through the stout canvas of the crossjack, thereby liberating upon himself a second demon of thrashing sail, but also performmg for the sorely pressed ship the action denied her by overtaxed gear. The crossjack ripped with a report like a gunshot as the screaming tempest took in hand what the steel had started, and the after pressure was relieved at the moment when Goliath, far out on the soaring jib- boom, roared that the jib was loosed, and to hoist away on the halyards. With the trimming of sail the Cadzz bore away and ran before the gale with seas boiling about her stem clear to the head- boards. A glance to the northward Davies gave, half in fear of seeing that strange sail appear through the murk; then he steadied the helmsman on a safe course, noted the ‘peed and hour, and left the deck to Kestral while he went below to seek Nell. Kestral was the one irritating factor left in the ship; but one such as he was enough to breed all kinds of trouble if not checked at the outset. It had been Kestral who put the arguments into the men’s mouths before they elected to follow Davies and let Cook go hang. Kestral had never showed by word or action that he had joined Davies in other than lip service; and Kestral now had started trouble with the one most trouble- some element on board—Nell Clark. And since he undoubtedly owed much to her hatred of Cook and her good-hearted attitude toward the girl of the brig, Davies, who had gained Goliath thereby, was re- solved that if Nell chose to be rated a man in the company, a man she should remain, if he had aught to do with it. bed at the end of the second Davies awaited anxiously the report of Goliath, who had been sent with the sound- ing-rod to try the well; for the Cadiz was strained, or perhaps she had_ sustained injury in running down the white sloop which developed only in the stress of the storm. The pumps clanked mournfully, gushing forth volumes of clear water which - 1 XIII TWO full days the gale lived; and 33 spoke only too eloquently of the size of the leak. “Five feet, cappen,”’ announced Goliath, showing the jointed ‘rod wet over its whole length. The line, too was wet. “That’s a foot worse, with yumps in constant play.” “Vassar,’ grinned Goliath; “an’ dat wattar’s clear. ’Tain’t no little leak, dat ain’t, cappen.”’ “Tssue double rations of rum, and double that again if only ye keep the rogues pump- ing,” snapped Davies. “’Tis a plaguy bit o’ coast lies ahead of us. Until I sight the pole star, or unless I hold off and on until sun meridian tomorrow, there is no running in to careen. me, but I fear we are even now in too close approach to the San Roque outer dangers. “And that ship you sighted—she must have run too as we have! Daylight’s wanted, Goliath. You must keep those pumps going if it costs ye lives.” ‘“°Tain’t costin’ no lives, cappen, lessen dat yar Kestral starts somet’ing. Ah t’ink he feelin’ slack about de knees. all de time dat now’s de time to quit de pirate life, wid stout ship under foot, widout waitin’ ontil dat king’s ship git him, or Cook either.” Davies set a mark against Kestral in his memory and waited impatiently for night. As soon as Polaris shone brightly enough to show in his crude instruments he took its altitude and from it secured a rough approximation of his latitude. The dis- covery that he was yet to the northward of San Roque and its dangers was pleasing, and if he had but means of determining his longitude he would gladly have trusted to the pumps awhile and taken a spell of much needed rest. “We are%on the latitude of Mossoro River, Kestral,” he said to his first officer. “Set men at each masthead and tell *em to look out keenly to the southward for loom of land or foam of breakers. ’Tis an evil coast, with tides and shoals and dan- gers untold.” The charts of the day were imperfect almost to distortion, and of all the manifold rocks and races that lie off the great Bra- zilian cape only the bold cape itself was shown in its true position. Dots and cir- cles, symbols of mythical nature too, were scattered helter-skelter around the head- land, but nothing was set down on the ce COMmiCLoolks He mutter ‘i (C@)