Читать книгу Men Against the Sea – Book Set. The Greatest Maritime Adventure Novels: The Bounty Trilogy, Lost Island, The Hurricane, Botany Bay, The Far Lands, Tales of the South Seas… онлайн

272 страница из 953

I had occasion, the next morning, to recall what Morrison had said of Thompson, the most stupid and brutal of the Bounty’s crew. He and Churchill had struck up an oddly assorted friendship, and spent most of their time sailing about the island in a small canoe, fitted with a sail of canvas. Thompson disliked the Indians as much as he distrusted them, and on shore was never without a loaded musket in his hand.

Going down to the beach for an early bath in the sea, I found the pair encamped by their canoe, with a sucking pig roasting on the coals near by. “Come—join us at breakfast, Mr. Byam,” called Churchill, hospitably.

Thompson looked up, scowling. “Damn you, Churchill,” he growled—“Let him find his own grub. We’ve no more than enough for ourselves.”

Churchill flushed. “Hold your tongue, Matt,” he exclaimed, “Mr. Byam’s my friend! Go and learn manners from the Indians, before I knock them into your head!”

Thompson rose and stalked off to a sandhill, where he seated himself sulkily, his musket between his knees. I had already breakfasted, and as I turned away I saw a dozen men pulling a large sailing canoe up on the beach, and the owner and his wife approaching us. The man carried in his arms a child of three or four years. They stopped by Churchill’s canoe to admire its sail of canvas, and turned to wish us good day. The Indian woman leaned over the boom to examine the stitching of the bolt rope, and at that moment I heard Thompson’s harsh voice.