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and at the third the
boat-steerer let loose his steering-oar and crumpled up in the
bottom of the boat.
"I guess thatll fix them," Wolf Larsen said, rising to his feet.
"I couldnt afford to let the hunter have it, and there is a chance
the boat-puller doesnt know how to steer. In which case, the
hunter cannot steer and shoot at the same time"
His reasoning was justified, for the boat rushed at once into the
wind and the hunter sprang aft to take the boat-steerers place.
There was no more shooting, though the rifles were still cracking
merrily from the other boats.
The hunter had managed to get the boat before the wind again, but
we ran down upon it, going at least two feet to its one. A hundred
yards away, I saw the boat-puller pass a rifle to the hunter. Wolf
Larsen went amidships and took the coil of the throat-halyards from
its pin. Then he peered over the rail with levelled rifle. Twice
I saw the hunter let go the steering-oar with one hand, reach for
his rifle, and hesitate. We were now alongside and foaming past.
"Here, you!" Wolf Larsen cried suddenly to the boat-puller. "Take
a turn!"
At the same time he flung the coil of rope. It struck fairly,
nearly knocking the man over, but he did not obey. Instead, he
looked to his hunter for orders. The hunter, in turn, was in a
quandary. His rifle was between his knees, but if he let go the
steering-oar in order to shoot, the boat would sweep around and
collide with the schooner. Also he saw Wolf Larsens rifle bearing
upon him and knew he would be shot ere he could get his rifle into
play.
"Take a turn," he said quietly to the man.
The boat-puller obeyed, taking a turn around the little forward
thwart and paying the line as it jerked taut. The boat sheered out
with a rush, and the hunter steadied it to a parallel course some
twenty feet from the side of the Ghost.
"Now, get that sail down and come alongside!" Wolf Larsen ordered.
He never let go his rifle, even passing down the tackles with one
hand. When they were fast, bow and stern, and the two uninjured
men prepared to come aboard, the hunter picked up his rifle as if
to place it in a secure position.
"Drop it!" Wolf Larsen cried, and the hunter dropped it as though
it were hot and had burned him.
Once aboard, the two prisoners hoisted in the boat and under Wolf
Larsens direction carried the wounded boat-steerer down into the
forecastle.
"If our five boats do as well as you and I have done, well have a
pretty full crew," Wolf Larsen said to me.
"The man you shot--he is--I hope?" Maud Brewster quavered.
"In the shoulder," he answered. "Nothing serious, Mr. Van Weyden
will pull him around as good as ever in three or four weeks."
"But he wont pull those chaps around, from the look of it," he
added, pointing at the Macedonias third boat, for which I had been
steering and which was now nearly abreast of us. "Thats Horners
and Smokes work. I told them we wanted live men, not carcasses.
But the joy of shooting to hit is a most compelling thing, when
once youve learned how to shoot. Ever experienced it, Mr. Van
Weyden?"
I shook my head and regarded their work. It had indeed been
bloody, for they had drawn off and joined our other three boats in
the attack on the remaining two of the enemy. The deserted boat
was in the trough of the sea, rolling drunkenly across each comber,
its loose spritsail out at right angles to it and fluttering and
flapping in the wind. The hunter and boat-puller were both lying
awkwardly in the bottom, but the boat-steerer lay across the
gunwale, half in and half out, his arms trailing in the water and
his head rolling from side to side.
"Dont look, Miss Brewster, please dont look," I had begged of
her, and I was glad that she had minded me and been spared the
sight.
"Head right into the bunch, Mr. Van Weyden," was Wolf Larsens
command.
As we drew nearer, the firing ceased, and we saw that the fight was
over. The remaining two boats had been captured by our five, and
the seven were grouped together, waiting to be picked up.
"Look at The Sea Wolf page 92 The Sea Wolf page 94 |