re-scuttle and deal him his just deserts for many
murders. "About three weeks ago," said he, "when you passed up here, I
saw three men on board. Where are the other two?" I answered him
briefly that the same crew was still on board. "But," said he, "I see
you are doing all the work," and with a leer he added, as he glanced
at the mainsail, "hombre valiente." I explained that I did all the
work in the day, while the rest of the crew slept, so that they would
be fresh to watch for Indians at night. I was interested in the subtle
cunning of this savage, knowing him, as I did, better perhaps than he
was aware. Even had I not been advised before I sailed from Sandy
Point, I should have measured him for an arch-villain now. Moreover,
one of the squaws, with that spark of kindliness which is somehow
found in the breast of even the lowest savage, warned me by a sign to
be on my guard, or Black Pedro would do me harm. There was no need of
the warning, however, for I was on my guard from the first, and at
that moment held a smart revolver in my hand ready for instant
service.

"When you sailed through here before," he said, "you fired a shot at
me," adding with some warmth that it was "muy malo." I affected not to
understand, and said, "You have lived at Sandy Point, have you not I"
He answered frankly, "Yes," and appeared delighted to meet one who had
come from the dear old place. "At the mission?" I queried. "Why, yes,"
he replied, stepping forward as if to embrace an old friend. I
motioned him back, for I did not share his flattering humor. "And you
know Captain Pedro Samblich?" continued I. "Yes," said the villain,
who had killed a kinsman of Samblich--"yes, indeed; he is a great
friend of mine." "I know it," said I. Samblich had told me to shoot
him on sight. Pointing to my rifle on the cabin, he wanted to know how
many times it fired. "Cuantos?" said he. When I explained to him that
that gun kept right on shooting, his jaw fell, and he spoke of getting
away. I did not hinder him from going. I gave the squaws biscuits and
beef, and one of them gave me several lumps of tallow in exchange, and
I think it worth mentioning that she did not offer me the smallest
pieces, but with some extra trouble handed me the largest of all the
pieces in the canoe. No Christian could have done more. Before pushing
off from the sloop the cunning savage asked for matches, and made as
if to reach with the end of his spear the box I was about to gi