Survivor: South Pacific

“Well, I won’t be next on your bill of fare, Horsham. There’s a ship approaching. We’ll be rescued by nightfall.”

“A ship! Well, by ginger, it’s about time someone charted this godforsaken wart on the sea. But I’m afraid you won’t be going with me, Mr. Meade. I didn’t starve here for fourteen months to meet my maker at the end of a rope.” Horsham snatched up Ogle’s harpoon.

“I won’t tell a soul, Horsham! You have my word.”

“Don’t need it, Mr. Meade. You know, I once sunk an iron in a sperm whale’s eye from thirty yards away. I wonder if I’ve still got me arm….”


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