Читать книгу Pitcairn's Island. Sea Adventure Novel онлайн

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“God love ye, Isaac!” McCoy exclaimed, in an awed voice.

“And it’s old Sawbones’s best brandy, mind ye that! Whereabout shall we go to drink it? We can’t sit comfortable-like here.”

McCoy and Martin carrying three bottles each, and Mills with two, they proceeded down the valley for another fifty yards until they came to a little glade carpeted with fern and mottled with sunlight and shadow. At this point the tiny stream made a bend, and in the hollow against the further bank was a pool of still water, two or three yards wide. Here they seated themselves with grunts of satisfaction. Martin, taking a heavy clasp knife which he carried at his belt, knocked off the neck of a bottle with one clean even blow.

“Ye needna be so impatient as all that,” said McCoy. “Bottles’ll be handy things here.”

Martin took a long pull before replying. “If there was one, there was fifteen dozen empties took ashore from the spirit room,” he said. His companions were not far behind him in enjoying their first drink. McCoy, replacing the cork in his bottle, leaned it carefully against the tree beside him.