The men now hurried up to the ship, a post that Captain Truck declared he
could maintain against a whole tribe, while Mr. Dodge began incontinently
to scull the jolly-boat, in the best manner he could, off to the launch.
All remonstrance was useless, as he had got as far as the bar before he
was perceived. Both Sir George Templemore and Mr. Monday loudly denounced
him for deserting the party on the shore in this scandalous manner, but
quite without affect. Mr. Dodge's skill, unfortunately for his success,
did not quite equal his zeal; and finding, when he got on the bar, that he
was unable to keep the boat's head to the sea, or indeed to manage it at
all, he fairly jumped into the water and swam lustily towards the launch.
As he was expert at this exercise, he arrived safely, cursing in his heart
all travelling, the desert, the Arabs, and mankind in general, wishing
himself quietly back in Dodgeopolis again, among his beloved people. The
boat drove upon the sands, of course, and was eventually taken care of by
two of the Montauk's crew.
As soon as Captain Truck found himself on the deck of the Dane, the arms
were distributed among the people. It was clearly his policy not to
commence the war, for he had nothing, in an affirmative sense, to gain by
it, though, without making any professions, his mind was fully made up not
to be taken alive, as long as there was a possibility of averting such a
disaster.
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