The trees were sawed
down, about ten miles up a river, and floated to its bar, across which
they had to be hauled by studding-sail halyards, through the surf; one man
hauling two logs at a time, made into a sort of raft. Sharks abounded, and
we had to keep a bright look-out, lest they got a leg while we were busy
with the logs. I had a narrow escape from two while we lay at St. Domingo.
A man fell overboard, and I went after him, succeeding in catching the
poor fellow. A boat was dropped astern to pick us up, and, as we hauled
the man in, two large sharks came up close alongside. This affair had set
us drinking, and I got a good deal of punch aboard. The idea of remaining
in the brig was unpleasant to me, and I had thought of quitting her for
some days. A small schooner bound to America, and short of hands, lay near
us; and I had told the captain I would come and join him that night. Jack
Mallet and the rest tried to persuade me not to go, but I had too much
punch and grog in me to listen to reason. When all hands aft were asleep,
therefore, I let myself down into the water, and swam quite a
cable's-length to the schooner. One of the men was looking out for me. He
heard me in the water, and stood ready to receive me. As I drew near the
schooner, this man threw me a rope, and helped me up the side, but, as
soon as I was on the deck, he told me to look behind me.
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