In less than an hour she was close to the reef, where she rounded to
and backed her topsails, in order to survey the coast. Seeing this, and
fearing that they might not perceive us, we all three waved pieces of
cocoa-nut cloth in the air, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing
them beginning to lower a boat and bustle about the decks as if they
meant to land. Suddenly a flag was run up to the peak, a little cloud
of white smoke rose from the schooner's side, and before we could guess
their intentions, a cannon-shot came crashing through the bushes,
carried away several cocoa-nut trees in its passage, and burst in atoms
against the cliff a few yards below the spot on which we stood.
With feelings of terror we now observed that the flag at the schooner's
peak was black, with a Death's-head and cross-bones upon it. As we
gazed at each other in blank amazement, the word "pirate" escaped our
lips simultaneously.
"What is to be done?" cried Peterkin, as we observed a boat shoot from
the vessel's side and make for the entrance of the reef. "If they take
us off the island, it will either be to throw us overboard for sport,
or to make pirates of us."
I did not reply, but looked at Jack, as being our only resource in this
emergency. He stood with folded arms, and his eyes fixed with a grave,
anxious expression on the ground. "There is but one hope," said he,
turning with a sad expression of countenance to Peterkin; "perhaps,
after all, we may not have to resort to it.
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