But those wild eyes met his, as the bloodshot eyes of the prairie
wolves meet the eye of their leader, ere he rushes on at their head
in the trail of the bison; but, alas! only to fall into the hidden
snare of the Indian.
"Drink and pass!" he cried, handing the heavy charged
flagon to the nearest seaman. "The crew alone now drink.
Round with it, round! Short draughts--long swallows, men;
'tis hot as Satan's hoof. So, so; it goes round excellently.
It spiralizes in ye; forks out at the serpent-snapping eye.
Well done; almost drained. That way it went, this way it comes.
Hand it me--here's a hollow! Men, ye seem the years;
so brimming life is gulped and gone. Steward, refill!
"Attend now, my braves. I have mustered ye all round this capstan;
and ye mates, flank me with your lances; and ye harpooneers, stand there
with your irons; and ye, stout mariners, ring me in, that I may in some
sort revive a noble custom of my fisherman fathers before me. O men,
you will yet see that--Ha! boy, come back? bad pennies come not sooner.
Hand it me. Why, now, this pewter had run brimming again, wert not thou
St. Vitus' imp--away, thou ague!
"Advance, ye mates! Cross your lances full before me.
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