Bertie did not see the bottle go off; but the mate opportunely
discharging a stick of real dynamite aft where it would harm nobody,
Bertie would have sworn in any admiralty court to a nigger blown to
flinders.
The flight of the twenty-five recruits had actually cost the _Arla_
forty pounds, and, since they had taken to the bush, there was no hope
of recovering them. The skipper and his mate proceeded to drown their
sorrow in cold tea. The cold tea was in whiskey bottles, so Bertie did
not know it was cold tea they were mopping up. All he knew was that
the two men got very drunk and argued eloquently and at length as to
whether the exploded nigger should be reported as a case of dysentery
or as an accidental drowning. When they snored off to sleep, he was
the only white man left, and he kept a perilous watch till dawn, in
fear of an attack from shore and an uprising of the crew.
Three more days the _Arla_ spent on the coast, and three more nights
the skipper and the mate drank overfondly of cold tea, leaving Bertie
to keep watch. They knew he could be depended upon, while he was
equally certain that if he lived, he would report their drunken conduct
to Captain Malu.
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