One IS jumpy
when soft-nosed bullets putt-putt around him. As a result, the bomb
rolled about on the open deck.
Nevertheless, the illuminators had earned the respect of the
mutineers for my fireworks. The sputtering and fizzling of the fuse
were too much for them, and from under the poop they ran for'ard like
so many scuttling rabbits. I know I could have got a couple with my
rifle had I not been occupied with lighting the fuse of a second
bomb. Margaret managed three wild shots with her revolver, and the
poop was immediately peppered by a scattering revolver fire from
for'ard.
Being provident (and lazy, for I have learned that it takes time and
labour to manufacture home-made bombs), I pinched off the live end of
the fuse in my hand. But the fuse of the first bomb, rolling about
on the main deck, merely fizzled on; and as I waited I resolved to
shorten my remaining fuses. Any of the men who fled, had he had the
courage, could have pinched off the fuse, or tossed the bomb
overboard, or, better yet, he could have tossed it up amongst us on
the poop.
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