Casca 15: The Pirate by Sadler Barry

Author:Sadler, Barry [Sadler, Barry]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2014-03-30T16:00:00+00:00

Damn! Jenkins decided he had better lay off that cheap rum that they had put aboard when they took on the cargo. Not only was he dreaming of seeing naked titted women where there were no women, now he was seeing her footprint. For a fraction of a second he started to reach out and touch the footprint in the sand to see if it were real or not, but he jerked back his hand before it was halfway there. He just didn't want any hard evidence interfering with the truth he already knew existed: that both the image of the woman and the footprint were mere figments of his imagination.

Unfortunately he did look back up the hill into the shadows under the trees, and saw the naked woman again passing quickly across his view, big boobs and all.

That was just a little too much. Jenkins glanced at the slaves, called to the boatswain: "Watch them. I'm going to look for a spring up here," and started up the path.

Almost immediately it made a sharp turn to the right, and again he smelled the strong perfumed odor of the flowers. When the path turned back again it was in a relatively dark, narrow space between another high rock and the close growing underbrush, and there was something white on the path. Involuntarily Jenkins looked down at the patch of white. He had not quite finished identifying it for what it was a pile of flower blossoms when Casca's club hit the back of his head....

The boatswain was not fond of the first mate, Jenkins, though he did not share the older man's hatred. To the boatswain hatred was a luxury a stupid man could not afford, and the boatswain knew he was not the smartest fellow afloat. What he did he did well, but that was because he had worked at it a long time and because there was always somebody over him that he could go to if it looked like there might be a problem. The boatswain had no intention of being left by himself.

The first ten minutes Jenkins was gone "looking for a spring" were no problem for the boatswain. The next five were. And the five after that threw him into a panic. Being in sole control of the gang setting up the hawsers didn't bother him. He'd done it many times. But being in sole control of the landing party with the first mate unaccountably missing was something else. He kept looking over at the rock, expecting the mate to appear. When the mate didn't, and the boatswain knew he had to do something about it, he had a problem with what to do with the slaves. His solution was not all that bright. He ordered all of them to stand in a group out on the open beach, but not too close to the boat. He edged over the rock, trying to keep his eyes on the men, holding both pistols aimed at them, and at the same time trying to grab quick glances back into the forest.

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