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Illustrator: W. Rainey

Under the Chilian Flag A Tale of War between Chili and Peru

Two young Englishmen, with sea-going experience, were aboard a British vessel trading in nitrates and other ores. The captain was a very disagreeable character, and they determined to leave him, and sign up with the Chilian authorities for employment in the Chilian Navy, which was short of officers. They were taken on, and the rest of the book details some of the adventures they had, and the trials and tribulations they endured.

BY HARRY COLLINGWOOD

WHAT HAPPENED ON THE PERICLES.

Thompson, as though only too glad of an excuse to leave the neighbourhood of his skipper, grunted out an assent, and, swinging round on his heel, shambled away down the ladder leading from the bridge to the spar-deck, and departed on his errand.

"All right, Thompson, all right," answered Douglas. "I'll be there in a moment." Then, turning to Terry O'Meara, he remarked: "I wonder what fault he will have to find this morning. I'll wager that he only wants to see me in order to blow me up about something, confound him! Well, Terry, old boy, I'll see you again when you come off duty in the evening. Trot along to my cabin at about ten o'clock, as usual. Good- bye for the time being."

With a wave of his hand, Douglas slipped out of the cabin and hurried along the alleyway, anxious to avoid keeping Fisher waiting any longer than was absolutely necessary. In a few seconds he reached the foot of the bridge ladder, and, running quickly up it, found the captain impatiently pacing up and down, evidently in the very worst of bad tempers.

"You wish to see me, sir," said Douglas respectfully.

The skipper glared at him for a moment and then burst out with, "Yes, you lazy young scoundrel, I do; and a precious long time you've been coming, too. I suppose you thought that, being off duty, you could skulk in your cabin and do nothing. I expect you were hatching some mischief with that other bright spark, your friend O'Meara. But let me tell you, sir, I will have no idlers on board my ship. Just remember that; and don't let me see you talking quite so much to that young scamp O'Meara. But that's not what I wanted to see you about. Why have you not carried out my instructions as to that paint-work which I told you to see about? I gave you my orders three days ago, and there is no sign as yet of the work being commenced. What do you mean by such conduct, sir? What possible excuse can you have for not--"

"Yes, of course I can," roared Fisher; "and I wanted to know why you had not seen fit to start the job until just now. However, you have given me an excuse, and I suppose I must accept it; but if you had carried out my orders with a little more promptitude the paint would have been dry before we ran into that breeze. You can go now, sir, and take care that I do not have cause to reprimand you again. I am getting sick of your laziness, incapacity, and insubordination."

Douglas turned on his heel and left the skipper without any more ado, but his cheeks burned with indignation at the injustice of it all. He had carried out his orders to the letter directly they had been given him, and it was certainly not his fault that the work had to be done over again. Neither was he lazy nor insubordinate; while, far from being incapable, he had earned the good-will of every skipper with whom he had sailed, with the solitary exception of this one. He returned to his cabin and lay down to think things over, with the result that he went on duty a few hours later more than ever resolved to make this his last voyage under Captain Fisher. True, he would be compelled to desert and would consequently lose his certificate, and probably have some difficulty in getting another ship; but even that would be better than the life he was living at present, which, he felt, was not fit for a dog.


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