Fitz the Filibuster | Page 5

the little crew of stout man-of-war's men sprang up and
literally tumbled over the low bulwarks on to the vessel's deck.
For a short period during which you might have counted six, there was
nothing heard but the rustle of the men's movements and the pad, pad,
pad of their bare feet upon the deck.
"Where's the--"
What the lieutenant would have said in continuation was not heard.
Surprised by the utter silence on board, he had shared with Fitz the
feeling that they must have boarded some derelict whose crew, perhaps
in great peril, had deserted their vessel and sought safety in the boats.
But the next moment there was a sudden rush that took every one by
surprise, for not a word was uttered by their assailants, the thud, thud,
thud of heavy blows, the breathing hard of men scuffling, followed by
splash after splash, and then one of the schooner's masts seemed to give
way and fall heavily upon Fitz Burnett's head, turning the dimly-seen
deck and the struggling men into something so black that he saw no
more.
CHAPTER THREE.
WAKING UP.
It is a curious sensation to be lying on your back you don't know where,
and you can't think of the reason why it should be so, but with your

head right off, completely detached from your body, and rolling round
and round like an exceedingly heavy big ball, that for some
inexplicable reason has been pitched into a vast mill on purpose to be
ground, but, probably from its thickness and hardness, does not submit
to that process, but is always going on and on between the upper stone
and nether stone, suffering horrible pain, but never turning into powder,
nor even into bits, but going grinding on always for a time that seems
as if it would never end unless the millstones should wear away.
That is what seemed to be the matter with Fitz Burnett, for how long he
could not tell. But a change came at last, with the gnawing, grinding
pain becoming dull. Later on it did not seem that his head was detached
from his body, and he had some undefined idea that his hands were
where he could move them, and at last, later on still, he found himself
lying in comparative calmness and in no pain, but in a state something
between sleeping and waking.
Then came a time when he began to think that it was very dark, that he
was very tired, and that he wanted to sleep, and so he slept. Then again
that it was very light, very warm, and that something seemed to be the
matter with his berth, for he was thinking more clearly now. He knew
he was lying on his back in his berth, and curiously enough he knew
that it was not his berth, and while he was wondering why this was,
something tickled his nose.
Naturally enough as the tickling went on, passing here and there, he
attributed it to a fly upon his face, and his instinct suggested to him to
knock it off. He made a movement to do this quickly and suddenly, but
his hand fell back upon his chest--whop! It was only a light touch, but
he heard it distinctly, and as the movement resulted in dislodging the
fly, he laughed to himself, perfectly satisfied. He felt very comfortable
and went to sleep again.
Hours must have passed, and it was light once more. He turned his
head and looked towards that light, to see that it was dancing and
flashing upon beautiful blue water all rippled and playing under the
influence of a gentle breeze. He could not see much of it, for he was
only looking through a round cabin-window. This was puzzling, for

there was no such window as that in the gunboat, and the mental
question came--where was he?
But it did not seem to matter. He was very comfortable, and that
dancing light upon the water was one of the most lovely sights he had
ever seen. He thought that it was a beautiful morning and that it was
very nice to lie and watch it, but he did not think about anybody else or
about whys or wherefores or any other puzzling problems, not even
about himself. But he did think it would be pleasant to turn himself a
little over on his side with his face close to the edge of the berth, and
take in long breaths of that soft, sweet air.
Acting upon this thought, he tried to turn himself, and for the first time
began to wonder why it was that he could not stir; and directly after he
began to wonder what it was he had been dreaming about; something
concerning his head