Luckily, the
worst was soon to pass. After one last tremendous wave there was a lull
for a few moments, and the patrao, who had watched for such a chance,
swiftly turned the boat round, and giving the word to the crew, they
pulled lustily toward the shore. In a few minutes we were again in
safety. The boat grounded on the beach, the oars were tossed into the
sea; the crew sprang overboard; some of them seized the new arrival; I
clambered on the back of the patrao; a crowd of negroes, who had been
waiting on the beach, laid hold of the tow-rope of the boat, and it and
we were landed simultaneously on the dry sand.
Once on shore Mr. Bransome, for that was the new man's name, rapidly
recovered his presence of mind and manner, and, by way of covering his
past confusion, remarked that he supposed the surf was seldom so bad as
it then was. I replied in an offhand way, meaning to make fun of him,
that what he had passed through was nothing, and appealed to the patrao
to confirm what I had said. That negro, seeing the joke, grinned all
over his black face; and Mr. Bransome, perceiving that he was being
laughed at, snatched a good-sized stick from a native standing near, and
struck the patrao repeatedly over the back.
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