PART FIVE: My Sea Adventure
Chapter 26: Israel Hands
(continued)
Before he could recover, I was safe out of the corner
where he had me trapped, with all the deck to dodge
about. Just forward of the main-mast I stopped, drew a
pistol from my pocket, took a cool aim, though he had
already turned and was once more coming directly after
me, and drew the trigger. The hammer fell, but there
followed neither flash nor sound; the priming was
useless with sea-water. I cursed myself for my
neglect. Why had not I, long before, reprimed and
reloaded my only weapons? Then I should not have been
as now, a mere fleeing sheep before this butcher.
Wounded as he was, it was wonderful how fast he could
move, his grizzled hair tumbling over his face, and his
face itself as red as a red ensign with his haste and
fury. I had no time to try my other pistol, nor indeed
much inclination, for I was sure it would be useless.
One thing I saw plainly: I must not simply retreat
before him, or he would speedily hold me boxed into the
bows, as a moment since he had so nearly boxed me in
the stern. Once so caught, and nine or ten inches of
the blood-stained dirk would be my last experience on
this side of eternity. I placed my palms against the
main-mast, which was of a goodish bigness, and waited,
every nerve upon the stretch.
Seeing that I meant to dodge, he also paused; and a
moment or two passed in feints on his part and
corresponding movements upon mine. It was such a game
as I had often played at home about the rocks of Black
Hill Cove, but never before, you may be sure, with such
a wildly beating heart as now. Still, as I say, it was
a boy's game, and I thought I could hold my own at it
against an elderly seaman with a wounded thigh. Indeed
my courage had begun to rise so high that I allowed myself
a few darting thoughts on what would be the end of the
affair, and while I saw certainly that I could spin it
out for long, I saw no hope of any ultimate escape.
Well, while things stood thus, suddenly the HISPANIOLA
struck, staggered, ground for an instant in the sand,
and then, swift as a blow, canted over to the port side
till the deck stood at an angle of forty-five degrees
and about a puncheon of water splashed into the scupper
holes and lay, in a pool, between the deck and bulwark.
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