rst.
I, for one, will die afore they do; an' so'll somebody else."

Striker and Davis endorse this determination; Hernandez too, feebly; but
Gomez in speech almost firm as that of Blew himself. In De Lara's
breast there is a sentiment, which revolts at the horrid proposal of his
confederate.

It is the first time he and Harry Blew have been in accord; and being
so, there is no uncertainty about the result. It is silently
understood, and but waits for one to declare it in words; which Striker
does, saying:

"Though I hev been a convick, an' don't deny it, I an't a coward, nor no
way afeerd to kick up my heels whensoever I see my time's come. If that
he's now, an' Jack Striker's got to die, dash it! he's ready. But it
must be a fair an' square thing. Theerfor, let it be settled by our
castin' lots all round."

"I agree to that," growls Padilla; "if you mean it to include the women
as well."

"We don't mean anythin' o' the sort," says Blew, springing to his feet.
"Ye unmanly scoundrel!" he continues, approaching Padilla,--"Repeat your
dastardly proposal, an' there'll be no need for drawin' lots. In a
minnit more, eyther you or me'll make food, for anybody as likes to eat
us. Now!"

The Californian, who has still preserved much of his tenacious strength,
and all of his ruffian ferocity, nevertheless shrinks and cowers before
the stalwart sailor.

"_Carajo_!" he exclaims, doggedly and reluctantly submitting. "Be it as
you like. I don't care any more than the rest of you. When it comes to
facing Fate, Rafael Rocas isn't the man to show the white-feather. I
only proposed what I believed to be fair. In a matter of life and
death, I don't see why women are any better than men. But if you all
think different, then be it as you say. We can cast lots, leaving them
out."

Padilla's submissive speech puts an end to the strange debate. The
side-issue is decided against him, and the main question once more comes
up.

After a time, it too is determined. Hunger demands a victim. To
appease it one must die.

The horrid resolve reached, it remains but to settle the mode of
selection. No great difficulty in this, and it is got over by Striker
saying:

"Chums! theer's just twelve o' us, the even dozen. Let's take twelve o'
them little shells ye see scattered about, an' put 'em into the boat's
pannikin. One o' them we can mark. Him as draws out the marked shell,
must--I needn't say what."

"Die" would h