The harmless brand that lies smoldering in the bottom of one of their canoes might be ablaze in one's cabin if he were not on the alert.

The port captain of Sandy Point warned me particularly of this danger.

Only a short time before they had fired a Chilean gunboat by throwing brands in through the stern windows of the cabin.

The _Spray_ had no openings in the cabin or deck, except two scuttles, and these were guarded by fastenings which could not be undone without waking me if I were asleep.
On the morning of the 9th, after a refreshing rest and a warm breakfast, and after I had swept the deck of tacks, I got out what spare canvas there was on board, and began to sew the pieces together in the shape of a peak for my square-mainsail, the tarpaulin.

The day to all appearances promised fine weather and light winds, but appearances in Tierra del Fuego do not always count.