'
"I staggered on to the floor. I had made up my mind to sham weak,
but I did not need to pretend at first, for having been six weeks
in bed, I felt strange and giddy when I got up. I slipped on my
clothes and went out on deck, staggered to the bulwarks and held
on. The fresh air soon set me straight, and I felt that I was pretty
strong again. However, I pretended to be able to scarce stand, and,
holding on by the bulwark, made my way aft.
"'You young dog,' the skipper said, 'you've been shamming for the
last six weeks. I reckon I'll sharpen you up now,' and he hit me
a heavy blow with a rattan he held in his hand. There was a cry
of 'Shame!' from some of the men. As quick as thought the skipper
pulled a pistol from his pocket.
"'Who cried "Shame"?' he asked looking round.
"No one answered. Still holding the pistol in his hand he gave me
several more cuts, and then told me to swab the deck. I did it,
pretending all the time I was scarce strong enough to keep my feet.
Then I made my way forward and sat down against the bulwark, as
if nigh done up, till night came. That night as I lay in my bunk
I heard the men talking in whispers together. I judged from what
they said that they intended to wait for another week, when they
expected to enter Magellan Straits, and then to attack and throw
the officers overboard.
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