delicious groves! But hard-hearted Jermin assured them, with an oath,
that foot of theirs should never touch the beach.

Toward sunset a crowd was seen coming down to the water. In advance of
all were the fugitives--bareheaded--their frocks and trousers hanging
in tatters, every face covered with blood and dust, and their arms
pinioned behind them with green thongs. Following them up, was a
shouting rabble of islanders, pricking them with the points of their
long spears, the party from the corvette menacing them in flank with
their naked cutlasses.

The bonus of a musket to the King of the Bay, and the promise of a
tumblerful of powder for every man caught, had set the whole
population on their track; and so successful was the hunt, that not
only were that morning's deserters brought back, but five of those
left behind on a former visit. The natives, however, were the mere
hounds of the chase, raising the game in their coverts, but leaving
the securing of it to the Frenchmen. Here, as elsewhere, the
islanders have no idea of taking part in such a scuffle as ensues
upon the capture of a party of desperate seamen.

The runaways were at once brought aboard, and, though they looked
rather sulky, soon came round, and treated the whole affair as a
frolicsome adventure.



CHAPTER VI.

WE TOUCH AT LA DOMINICA