Marble, Smudge and Neb, were all looking in the same
direction, at that instant. Under an impulse I could not control, I
ventured to suggest that we might yet tack and save several of the
wretches.
"Let them drown, and be d----d!" was the chief-mate's sententious
answer.
"No--no--Masser Mile," Neb ventured to add, with a remonstrating shake
of the head--"dat will nebber do--no good ebber come of Injin. If you
don't drown him, he sartain drown you."
I saw it was idle to remonstrate; and by this time one dark spot,
after another, began to disappear, as the victims sank in the
ocean. As for Smudge, his eye was riveted on the struggling forms of
his followers, in a manner to show that traces of human feeling are to
be found, in some aspect or other, in every condition of life. I
thought I could detect workings of the countenance of this being,
indurated as his heart had become by a long life of savage ferocity,
which denoted how keenly he felt the sudden destruction that had
alighted on his tribe. He might have had sons and grandsons among
those struggling wretches, on whom he was now gazing for the last
time. If so, his self-command was almost miraculous; for, while I
could see that he felt, and felt intensely, not a sign of weakness
escaped him. As the last head sunk from view, I could see him shudder;
a suppressed groan escaped him; then he turned his face towards the
bulwarks, and stood immovable as one of the pines of his own forests,
for a long time.
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