When he reached the coast near the mouth of the river, he took the masts
out of his little vessel, and rowed quietly toward the pearl-fishing
fleet, as if he had intended to join them on some entirely peaceable
errand; and, in fact, there was no reason whatever why the Spaniards
should suppose that a boat full of buccaneers should be rowing along
that part of the coast.
The pearl-fishing vessels were all at anchor, and the people on board
were quietly attending to their business. Out at sea, some distance
from the mouth of the river, the man-of-war was lying becalmed. The
native divers who went down to the bottom of the sea to bring up the
shellfish which contained the pearls, plunged into the water, and came
up wet and shining in the sun, with no fear whatever of any sharks which
might be swimming about in search of a dinner, and the people on the
vessels opened the oysters and carefully searched for pearls, feeling as
safe from harm as if they were picking olives in their native groves.
But something worse than a shark was quietly making its way over those
tranquil waters, and no banditti who ever descended from Spanish
mountains upon the quiet peasants of a village, equalled in ferocity the
savage fellows who were crouching in the little boat belonging to Pierre
of Tortuga.
This innocent-looking craft, which the pearl-fishers probably thought
was loaded with fruit or vegetables which somebody from the mainland
desired to sell, was permitted, without being challenged or interfered
with, to row up alongside the largest vessel of the fleet, on which
there were some armed men and a few cannon.
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