"Bear a hand, my lads, and cut away," at length ordered
the boatswain, in a low but clear tone; "half a dozen at
each end of the stick, and we shall soon clear a passage
for the craft."
A dozen sailors grasped their axes, and hastened forward
to execute the command. They sprang lightly from the
entangled bows of the schooner, and diverging in equal
numbers moved to either extremity of the fallen tree.
"This is sailing through the heart of the American forest
with a vengeance," muttered Mullins, whose annoyance at
their detention was strongly manifested as he paced up
and down the deck. "Shiver my topsails, if it isn't bad
enough to clear the Sinclair at any time, much more so
when one's running for one's life, and not a whisper's
length from one's enemies. Do you know, Captain," abruptly
checking his movement, and familiarly placing his hand
on the shoulder of De Haldimar, "the last time we sailed
through this very reach I couldn't help telling poor
Captain Danvers, God rest his soul, what a nice spot it
was for an Ingian ambuscade, if they had only gumption
enough to think of it."
"Hark!" said the officer, whose heart, eye, and ear were
painfully on the alert, "what rustling is that we hear
overhead?"
"It's Jack Fuller, no doubt, your honour; I sent him up
to clear away the branches from the main topmast rigging.
Pages:
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573