David King, first-mate, and six others,
viz., George Lunt, Henry Webster, Stephen Stimpson and John Harris,
seamen, Bill Flint, cook, and Peter Doolittle, boy, still living, but
God only knows what is to be our fate. I shall put this slate beneath
the stone I now sit on, in the hope it may one day let our friends
learn what has happened."--
We looked at each other, astounded. Both the captain and Marble
remembered to have heard that a brig in this trade, called the
Sea-Otter, was missing; and, here, by a communication that was little
short of miraculous, we were let into the secret of her disappearance.
"_Coaxed_ in--" repeated the captain, running his eye over the
writing, which had been thus singularly preserved, and that, in a
situation where one would think it might have been discovered a
thousand times.--"Yes, yes--I now begin to understand the whole
matter. If there were any wind, gentlemen, I would go to sea this very
night."
"That would be hardly worth our while, Captain Williams," the
chief-mate answered, "since we are now on our guard, and I feel pretty
certain that there are no savages in our neighbourhood. So far, the
Dipper and his friends have traded with us fairly enough, and it is
likely they have more skins to dispose of. This chap, whom the people
have christened Smudge, takes matters so coolly, that I hardly think
he knows anything about the Sea-Otter, which may have been cut off by
another gang, altogether.
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