drops of perspiration stood on his forehead. Soon after he threw himself into the hammock, and, as I thought, fell asleep; but in a few minutes I saw the hammock shake, and, remembering my own shaking there, thought it was at its old tricks of giving people the fever and ague; but very soon I saw that the poor captain was in convulsions. Excepting Captain D’Yriarte, who was lying against the wall perfectly helpless, I was the only man in the hut; and as there was danger of his throwing himself out of the hammock, I endeavoured to hold him in; but with one convulsive effort he threw me to the other side of the hut, and hung over the side of the hammock, with one hand entangled in the cords, and his head almost touching the ground. The old woman said that the devil had taken possession of him, and ran out of doors, screaming. Fortunately, this brought in a man whom I had not seen before, Mr. Warburton,[1] an engineer, who had come out to set up the machinery, and who was himself a machine of many horsepower, having a pair of shoulders that seemed constructed expressly for holding men in convulsions. At first he was so shocked that he did not know what to do. I told him that the captain was to be held, whereupon, opening his powerful arms, he closed them around the captain's with the force of a hydraulic press, turning the legs over to me. These logs were a pair of the sturdiest that ever supported a human body; and I verily believe that if the feet had once touched my ribs, they would have sent me through the wall of the hut. Watching my opportunity, I wound the hammock around his legs, and my arms around the hammock. In the meantime he broke lose from Mr. Warburton's hug, who, taking the hint from me, doubled his part in with the folds of the hammock, and gave his clinch from the outside. The captain struggled, and, worming like a gigantic snake, slipped his head out of the top of the hammock, and twisted the cords around his neck, so that we were afraid of his strangling himself. We were in utter despair, when two of his sailors rushed in, who, being at home with ropes, extricated his head, shoved him back into the hammock, wrapped it around him as before, and I withdrew, completely exhausted.
The two recruits were Tom, a regular tar of about forty, and the cook, a black man, and particular friend of Tom, who called him "Darkey." Tom undertook the whole direction of securing the captain; and, although Dr. Drivon and several Indians came in, Tom's voice was the only one heard, and addressed only to "Darkey"—"Stand by his legs, Darkey!"—"Hold fast, Darkey!"—"Steady, Darkey!" but all together could not hold him. Turning on his face,
- ↑ Died at Mazatlan about six months afterwards.
