steered in our direction.
As the surly Spaniard never spoke, I had become accustomed to be
equally silent. Unexpectedly, however, he gave a scowling glance from
beneath his shaggy brows at the vessel, and exclaimed with unusual
energy: "A Columbian privateer!"

"We had best up anchor, and get inside the reef," continued he, "or
our sport will be spoiled for the day."

"Pshaw!" returned I, "she's not making for us, and, even if she were,
I wouldn't be such a coward as to run!" Indeed, I had heard so much of
"Columbian privateers" and the patriot service, that I rather longed
to be captured, that I might try my hand at lawful war and glory. The
impulse was sudden and silly.

Still Gallego insisted on retreating; until, at length, we got into an
angry controversy, which the cook, who was in the bow of the boat,
attempted to end by cutting the anchor-rope. As he was drawing his
knife to execute this purpose, I swiftly lifted an oar, and, with a
single blow, laid him senseless in the bottom of the canoe. By this
time the schooner was within pistol-shot; and, as she passed with a
three-knot breeze, the captain, who had witnessed the scene, threw a
grappling-iron into our skiff, and taking us in tow, dragged the boat
from its moorings.

As soon as we got into deeper water, I was ordered on deck, while
Gallego, still quite insensible, was hoisted carefully on board. I
told the truth as to our dispute, reserving, however, the important
fact that I had been originally urged into the quarrel by my anxiety
"to ship" on board a privateer.

"I want a pilot for Key West," said the master, hurriedly, "and I have
no time to trifle with your stupid quarrels. Can either of you perform
this service?"

By this time Gallego had been somewhat roused from his stupor, and
pointing feebly towards me, uttered a languid:--"Yes, and an
_excellent_ one."

Mistaking the word "_pilote_," which in Spanish signifies "navigator,"
the French captain, who spoke the Castilian very badly, translated it
into the more limited meaning attached to that peculiar profession,
one of whose ministers he was anxious to secure.

"_Bon!_" said the master, "put the other fellow back into his skiff,
and make sail at once under charge of this youngster."

I remonstrated, protested, declaimed, swore, that I knew nothing of
Key West and its approaches; but all my efforts were vain. I was a
pilot in spite of myself.

The malicious cook enjoyed the joke of which