But no sooner had their eyes
encountered the object of their interest, when each
individual started suddenly and involuntarily back, baring
his cutlass, and drawing forth his pistol, the whole
presenting a group of countenances strongly marked by
various shades of consternation and alarm, even while
their attitudes were those of men prepared for some fierce
and desperate danger. It was indeed Fuller whom they had
beheld, but not labouring, as the boatswain had imagined,
under the mere influence of superstitious fear. He was
dead, and the blood flowing from a deep wound, inflicted
by a sharp instrument in his chest, and the scalped head,
too plainly told the manner of his death, and the danger
that awaited them all.
A pause ensued, but it was short. Before any one could
find words to remark on the horrible circumstance, the
appalling war-cry of the savages burst loudly from every
quarter upon the ears of the devoted crew. In the
desperation of the moment, several of the men clutched
their cutlasses between their teeth, and seizing the
concealed matches, rushed to their respective stations
at the guns.
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