The Man Who Had Nowhere to Go.

           

           Intheearlymorning(itwasthesecondmorningaftermyrecovery,andIbelievethefourthafterIwaspickedup),Iawokethroughanavenueoftumultuousdreams,dreamsofgunsandhowlingmobs,andbecamesensibleofahoarseshoutingaboveme.Irubbedmyeyesandlaylisteningtothenoise,doubtfulforalittlewhileofmywhereabouts.Thencameasuddenpatteringofbarefeet,thesoundofheavyobjectsbeingthrownabout,aviolentcreakingandtherattlingofchains.Iheardtheswishofthewaterastheshipwassuddenlybroughtround,andafoamyyellow-greenwaveflewacrossthelittleroundwindowandleftitstreaming.Ijumpedintomyclothesandwentondeck.

           AsIcameuptheladderIsawagainsttheflushedskyforthesunwasjustrisingthebroadbackandredhairofthecaptain,andoverhisshoulderthepumaspinningfromatackleriggedontothemizzenspanker-boom.

           Thepoorbruteseemedhorriblyscared,andcrouchedinthebottomofitslittlecage.

           "Overboardwith’em!"bawledthecaptain."Overboardwith’em!We’llhaveacleanshipsoonofthewholebilin’of’em."

           Hestoodinmyway,sothatIhadperforcetotaphisshouldertocomeondeck.Hecameroundwithastart,andstaggeredbackafewpacestostareatme.Itneedednoexperteyetotellthatthemanwasstilldrunk.

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