The tournament of blood was over. So swift had it been there was no
chance to interfere. Besides, Gering was not inclined to save the life
of either; while Phips, who now knew the chart, as he thought, as well
as Bucklaw, was not concerned, though he liked the mutineer.
For a moment they both looked at the shambles without speaking. Sailors
for whom Phips had whistled crowded the cabin.
"A damned bad start, Mr. Gering," Phips said, as he moved towards the
bodies.
"For them, yes; but they might have given us a bad ending."
"For the Frenchman, he's got less than was brewing for him, but Bucklaw
was a humorous dog."
As he said this he stooped to Bucklaw and turned him over, calling to the
sailors to clean the red trough and bring the dead men on deck, but
presently he cried: "By the devil's tail, the fellow lives! Here, a hand
quick, you lubbers, and fetch the surgeon."
Bucklaw was not dead. He had got two ugly wounds and was bleeding
heavily, but his heart still beat. Radisson's body was carried on deck,
and within half an hour was dropped into the deep. The surgeon, however,
would not permit Bucklaw to be removed until he had been cared for, and
so Phips and Gering went on deck and made preparations for the treasure-
hunt. A canoe was hollowed out by a dozen men in a few hours, the tender
was got ready, the men and divers told off, and Gering took command of
the searching-party, while Phips remained on the ship.
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