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"Not quite as handy as a cricket ball, but-" murmured Sebastian and came to his feet. Using the short run up he delivered the fast ball with which he had shattered the Yorkshire first i
"Now send the men," roared Sebastian and bowled a short lifter that hastened the retreat.
He selected another coconut and was about to deliver that also when there was a flash and a report from aft, and something howled over Sebastian's head. Hastily he ducked behind the sack of coconuts.
"My God, they've got a gun up there!" Sebastian remembered then the ancient muzzle-loading Jezail he had seen the captain polishing lovingly on their first day out from Zanzibar, and he felt his anger rising in earnest.
He jumped to his feet and hurled his next coconut with fury.
"Fight fair, you dirty swine! "he yelled.
There was a delay while the dhow captain went through the complicated process of loading his piece. Then a ca
Through the dark hours before dawn the lively exchange of jeers and curses, of coconuts and pot legs continued.
Sebastian more than held his own for he scored four howls of pain and a yelp, while the dhow captain succeeded only in shooting away a great deal of his own standing rigging.
But as the light of the new day increased, so Sebastian's advantage waned. The Arab captain's shooting improved to such an extent that Sebastian spent most of his time crouching behind the sack of coconuts. Sebastian was nearly exhausted. His right arm and shoulder ached unmercifully, and he could hear the first stealthy advance of the Arab crew as they crept down towards his hide. In daylight they could surround him and use their numbers to drag him down.
While he rested for the final effort, Sebastian looked out at the morning. It was a red dawn, angry and beautiful through the swamp mists so the water glowed with a pink sheen and the mangroves stood very dark around the ship.
Something splashed farther up the cha
Then around the bend in the cha
"What the hell's going on here?" he roared. "Are you fighting a goddamned war? I've been waiting a week for you lotV
"Look out, Fly
The Arab captain had jumped to his feet and was looking around uncertainly. Long ago he had regretted his impulse to rid himself of the Englishman and escape from this evil swamp, and now his misgivings were truly justified. Having committed himself, however, there was only one course open to him. He lifted the Jezail to his shoulder and aimed at O'Fly
The heavy bullet picked up the Arab captain's scrawny body, his robe fluttered like a piece of old paper and his turban flew from his head and unwound in mid-air as he was flung clear of the rail to drop with a tall splash alongside.
He floated face down, trapped air ballooning his robe about him and then he drifted away slowly on the sluggish Current.
His crew, stu
Dismissing the neat execution as though it had never happened, O'Fly
The formal a
The next problem was the choice of a name. This stirred up a little Anglo-American enmity, with Fly
"Now hold on a jiffy, old chap," he protested.
"What's wrong with it? You just tell me what's wrong with id'
"Well, first of all this is going to be one of His Brita
"New Boston," O'Fly
That sounds real good."
Sebastian shuddered. "I think it would be well, not quite suitable. I mean, Boston was the place where they had that tea thing, you know."
The argument raged more savagely as Fly