PART FIVE: My Sea Adventure
Chapter 27: "Pieces of Eight"
(continued)
I began to see a danger to the ship. The jibs I
speedily doused and brought tumbling to the deck, but
the main-sail was a harder matter. Of course, when the
schooner canted over, the boom had swung out-board, and
the cap of it and a foot or two of sail hung even under
water. I thought this made it still more dangerous;
yet the strain was so heavy that I half feared to
meddle. At last I got my knife and cut the halyards.
The peak dropped instantly, a great belly of loose
canvas floated broad upon the water, and since, pull as
I liked, I could not budge the downhall, that was the
extent of what I 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, I remember, falling through a
glade of the wood and shining bright as jewels on the
flowery mantle of the wreck. It began to be chill; the
tide was rapidly fleeting seaward, the schooner
settling more and more on her beam-ends.
I scrambled forward and looked over. It seemed shallow
enough, and holding the cut hawser in both hands for a
last security, I let myself drop softly overboard. The
water scarcely reached my waist; the sand was firm and
covered with ripple marks, and I waded ashore in great
spirits, leaving the HISPANIOLA on her side, with her
main-sail trailing wide upon the surface of the bay.
About the same time, the sun went fairly down and the
breeze whistled low in the dusk among the tossing pines.
At least, and at last, I was off the sea, nor had I
returned thence empty-handed. There lay the schooner,
clear at last from buccaneers and ready for our own men
to board and get to sea again. I had nothing nearer my
fancy than to get home to the stockade and boast of my
achievements. Possibly I might be blamed a bit for my
truantry, but the recapture of the HISPANIOLA was a
clenching answer, and I hoped that even Captain
Smollett would confess I had not lost my time.
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