Chapter Thirteen.
A Visit from the Hornets.
“Upon my word, Mr Anderson,” said the captain, as he had the men drawn up before him as soon as they reached the Seafowl—“Upon my word, sir, I am delighted. I entrust you with a couple of boats’ crews to carry out a necessary duty, and you bring me back a scorched-up detachment only fit to go into hospital.”
“I beg pardon, sir,” said the chief officer shortly; “only one man wounded, and his injury is very slight.”
“Don’t talk to me like that, sir!” cried the captain. “Look at them, sir—look at them!”
“I have been looking at them, sir, for long enough—poor fellows—and I am truly sorry to have brought them back in such a state.”
“I should think you are, sir! Upon my word of honour I should think you are! But what have you been about?”
“Burning out the hornets’ nest, sir,” said the lieutenant bluffly.
“Well, I suppose you have done that thoroughly, Mr Anderson: but at what a cost! Is there to be no end to these misfortunes? First you allow yourself to be deluded by a slave-trading American and bring the Seafowl up here to be run aground, with the chance of becoming a total wreck—”
“I beg your pardon, sir!”
“Well, not total—perhaps not total, Mr Anderson; but she is in a terribly bad position.”
“One from which you will easily set her at liberty.”
“Fortunately for you, Mr Anderson; and that is to my credit, I think, not yours.”
“Granted, sir,” said the lieutenant; “but do you give me the credit of being tricked by the slave skipper?”
“Well, I suppose I must take my share, Mr Anderson; but don’t you think it would be more creditable to dismiss these poor fellows at once and have them overhauled by the surgeon?”
“I do, sir, certainly,” said the chief officer.
“Have them below, then, at once, and let Mr Reston do his best with them. Only one seriously wounded, you said?”
“No, sir; slightly.”
“Good. But to think of the Seafowl being turned at one stroke into a hospital hulk.—You thoroughly destroyed the town and the slave barracks?”
“We completely burned out the wretched collection of palm and bamboo huts, sir, and the horrible barn and shambles where they keep their wretched captives. It was a place of horror, sir,” said the lieutenant angrily. “If you had seen what we saw, sir, you would have felt that no punishment could be too great for the wretches.”
“Humph! I suppose not, Mr Anderson. And that iniquitous Yankee scoundrel who has slipped through my fingers. But look here, Mr Anderson, I am going to find that wretch; and when I do—yes, when I do! He has had the laugh of me, and I was too easily deceived, Anderson; but I’m going to follow that fellow across the Atlantic to where he disposes of his unfortunate cargo. It’s thousands of miles, perhaps, and a long pursuit maybe, but we’re going to do it, sir, no matter what it costs, and I hope and believe that my officers and my poor brave fellows who have suffered what they have to-day will back me up and strain every nerve to bring the Seafowl alongside his schooner, going or coming. Hang him, Mr Anderson!—Ah, I did not mean to say that, sir; but hang him by all means if you can catch him. We’ll give him the mercy he has dealt out to these poor unhappy creatures, and for the way in which my brave fellows have been scorched and singed I’m going to burn that schooner—or—well, no, I can’t do that, for it must be a smart vessel, and my sturdy lads must have something in the way of prize money. Look at them, Mr Anderson; and look at those two! You don’t mean to tell me that those are officers?”
He pointed at the two midshipmen so suddenly that they both started and turned to look at each other, then stared at the captain again, and once more gazed at each other, puzzled, confused, angry and annoyed at their aspect, looking so comical that the captain’s manner completely altered. He had been gazing at his young officers with an air of commiseration, and his tones spoke of the anger and annoyance he felt to see the state they were in; and then all was changed; he turned to the first lieutenant, whose eyes met his, and, unable to maintain his seriousness, he burst into a fit of laughter, in which he was joined by the chief officer. Then, pulling himself together, he snatched out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes.
“Bah!” he ejaculated. “Most unbecoming! I did not mean this, gentlemen; the matter is too serious. But for goodness’ sake get below and make yourselves presentable. Mr Anderson, you ought not to have laughed. See to all the poor fellows, sir. The men must have fresh clothes served out, and all who are unfit for duty go into the sick bay.”
Then, frowning severely, he turned sharply upon his heels and marched to the cabin door.
“Well,” exclaimed the first lieutenant, “of all—‘Mr Anderson, you ought not to have laughed!’ Well, gentlemen,” he cried angrily, as he turned upon the two young officers, “pray what do you find to laugh at? Is my face black?”
“No, sir,” cried Murray, in a half-choking voice. “I beg your pardon, sir. It seemed so comic for the captain to turn upon you like that.”
“Eh? Humph! Well, I suppose it was. I laughed too. Well, better laugh than cry over spilt milk. It’s the excitement, I suppose, and what we have gone through. Now then, we had better go below and interview the doctor; but he will be busy over the lads for a long time before our turn comes.”
“I believe the skipper’s half-cracked,” said Roberts, as the two lads went below to their quarters.
“Then I’d keep my opinions to myself, old fellow,” grumbled Murray; and then as he seated himself upon a locker he uttered a low hissing sound suggestive of pain.
“Pooh! This is a free country—no, I don’t mean that,” cried Roberts, pulling himself up short. “I mean, every man has a right to his own opinions.”
“Yes, but not to give them aboard a man-o’-war.”
“Bah! We’re not slaves. Haven’t we come to suppress slavery?”
“I dare say we have,” said Murray, “but you’d better not let the skipper know that you said he was a bit of a lunatic.”
“Shall if I like. You won’t be a sneak and tell. Why, it was ghastly to see him turn as he did. One minute he was speaking feelingly and letting us all see that he meant to spare no efforts about pursuing and punishing that Yankee skipper, and the next he was laughing like a hysterical school-girl.”
“He couldn’t help it, poor old boy,” said Murray. “Old Anderson was just as bad, and we caught the infection and laughed too, and so did the men.”
“Well, I can’t see what there was to laugh at.”
“That’s the fun of it. But it is all through every one being so overstrung, I suppose. There, do leave off riddling about your cheeks.”
“Who’s fiddling, as you call it, about one’s cheeks?”
“You were, and it’s of no use; the miserable little bits of down are gone, and there’s nothing for it but to wait till the hairs begin to grow again.”
“Er-r-r!” growled Roberts angrily; and he raised his fingers to the singed spots involuntarily, and then snatched them down again, enraged by the smile which was beginning to pucker up his companion’s face. “There you go again. You’re worse than the skipper.”
“Then don’t make me laugh, for it hurts horribly.”
“I’ll make you laugh on the other side of your face directly.”
“No don’t—pray don’t,” sighed Murray; “for the skin there’s stiffer, and I’m sure it will crack.”
“You’re cracked already.”
“I think we must all have been, to get ourselves in such a mess, old fellow. But it was very brave, I suppose, and I don’t believe any one but English sailors would have done what we did.”
“Pooh! Any fools could have started those fires.”
“Perhaps so. But what’s the matter now?” For Roberts had raised his face from the water he was beginning to use, with an angry hiss.
“Try and bathe your face, and you’ll soon know.”
“Feel as if the skin was coming off? Well, we can’t help it. Must get rid of the black. The skin will grow again. But I’m thinking of one’s uniform. My jacket’s like so much tinder.”
A wash, a change, and a visit to the doctor ended with the sufferers being in comparative comfort, and the two lads stood and looked at each other.
“Hasn’t improved our appearance, Dick,” said Murray.
“No; but you must get the barber to touch you up. One side of your curly wig is singed right off, and the other’s fairly long.”
“I don’t care,” cried Murray carelessly. “I’m not going to bother about anything. Let’s go on deck and see what they’re about.”
Roberts was quite willing, and the first man they encountered was the able-seaman Titely.
“Why, hallo!” cried Murray. “I expected you’d be in hospital.”
“Me, sir! What for?”
“Your wound.”
“That warn’t a wound, sir; only a snick. The doctor put a couple o’ stitches in it, and then he made a sorter star with strips o’ stick-jack plaister. My belt got the worst of it, and jest look at my hair, sir. Sam Mason scissored off one side; the fire did the other. Looks nice and cool, don’t it?”
The man took off his new straw hat and held his head first on one side and then the other for inspection.
“Why, you look like a Turk, Titely,” said Murray.
“Yes, I do, sir, don’t I? Old Sam Mason’s clipping away still. The other chaps liked mine so that they wanted theirs done the same. It’s prime, sir, for this here climate.”
“But your wound?” said Roberts.
“Don’t talk about it, sir, or I shall be put upon the sick list, and it’s quite hot enough without a fellow being shut up below. Noo canvas trousis, sir. Look prime, don’t they?”
“But, Titely,” cried Murray, “surely you ought to be on the sick list?”
“I say, please don’t say such a word,” whispered the man, looking sharply round. “You’ll be having the skipper and Mr Anderson hearing on you. I ain’t no wuss than my messmates.”
“No, I suppose not,” said Roberts, “but—why, they seem to be all on deck.”
“Course they are, sir,” said the man, grinning. “There’s nowt the matter with them but noo shirts and trousis, and they allers do chafe a bit.”
Murray laughed.
“But you ought to be on the sick list.”
“Oh, I say, sir, please don’t! How would you young gentlemen like to be laid aside?”
“But what does the doctor say? Didn’t he tell you that you ought to go into the sick bay?”
“Yes, sir,” said the man, grinning; “but I gammoned him a bit.”
“You cheated the doctor, sir!” said Roberts sternly.
“Well, sir, I didn’t mean no harm,” said the man, puckering up his face a little and wincing—“I only put it to him like this: said I should only fret if I went on the sick list, and lie there chewing more than was good for me.”
“Well, and what did he say?”
“Told me I was a himpident scoundrel, sir, and that I was to go and see him every morning, and keep my left arm easy and not try to haul.”
In fact, singeing, some ugly blisters, a certain number of hands that were bound up by the doctor, and a few orders as to their use—orders which proved to be forgotten at once—and a certain awkwardness of gait set down to the stiffness of the newly issued garments—those were all that were noticeable at the first glance round by the midshipmen, and apparently the whole crew were ready and fit to help in the efforts being made to get the sloop out of her unpleasant position in the mud of the giant river.
As for the men themselves, they were in the highest of spirits, and worked away hauling at cables and hoisting sail to such an extent that when the night wind came sweeping along the lower reaches of the river, the sloop careened over till it seemed as if she would dip her canvas in the swiftly flowing tide, but recovered almost to float upon an even keel. Twice more she lay over again, and then a hearty cheer rang out, for she rose after the last careen and then began to glide slowly out into deeper water, just as the captain gave orders for one of the bow guns to be fired.
“Why was that?” said Murray, who had been busy at his duties right aft. “Didn’t you see?”
“No. Not to cheer up the men because we were out of the mud?”
“Tchah! No. The niggers were beginning to collect again ashore there by that patch of unburned forest.”
“I didn’t see.”
“That doesn’t matter,” said Roberts sourly; “but the blacks did, and felt too, I expect. Anyhow, they sloped off, and now I suppose we shall do the same while our shoes are good, for the skipper won’t be happy till we’re out to sea again.”
“Here, what now?” said Murray excitedly. “What does this mean?”
“This” meant cheering and excitement and the issuing of orders which made the deck a busy scene, for the men were beat to quarters ready to meet what promised to be a serious attack. For in the evening light quite a fleet of large canoes crowded with men could be seen coming round a bend of the river, the blades dipping regularly and throwing up the water that flashed in the last rays of the sinking sun, while from end to end the long canoes bristled with spears, and the deep tones of a war song rhythmically accompanied the dipping of the paddles.
“Why, they must be three or four hundred strong, Anderson,” said the captain. “Fully that, sir.”
“Poor wretches!” muttered the captain. “I thought we had given them lesson enough for one day.”
“Only enough to set them astir for revenge,” said the lieutenant.
“Well, the lesson must be repeated,” said the captain, shrugging his shoulders. “See what a shot will do with that leading canoe. We have come upon a warlike tribe, brave enough, or they would not dare to attack a vessel like this.”
Chapter Fourteen.
Dealing with a Fleet.
“I know what I should do,” said Murray, as, forgetting the smarting and stiffness from which he suffered, he stood watching the savage fleet steadily gliding down stream.
“What?” said Roberts.
“Get out of the river as soon as I could. We could sail right away now.”
“Cowardly,” grumbled Roberts. “Why, it would be throwing away the chance of giving the wretches a severe lesson.”
“They’ve had one,” said Murray, “and if we sink half-a-dozen of them they’ll be ready enough to come on again.”
“Then we could sink some more. Why, if you sailed away they’d think we were afraid of them.”
“Let them! We know better. It seems a bit horrible with our great power to begin sending grape and canister scattering amongst these slight canoes.”
“Oh yes, horrible enough; but they must be taught that they can’t be allowed to make war upon other tribes and sell their prisoners into slavery.”
“I suppose so,” said the lad, with a sigh, possibly due to the pain he still felt from the late fight with the flames.
“Look at that,” whispered Roberts excitedly. “Why, the skipper seems to think as you do.”
For orders were given, the capstan manned, and the sloop glided towards the anchor by which they now swung, the sails began to fill and help the men in their task, and soon after the anchor stock appeared above the water.
It was quite time, for the canoes were nearing fast, and to the two midshipmen it appeared as if the enemy would be alongside and swarming aboard before their vessel had time to gather way.
“Why don’t we fire, Frank?” said Roberts excitedly.
“Because we’re not in command,” replied Murray coolly, as he tried to measure mentally the length of time it would take for the leading canoe to reach them, rapidly advancing as it was in obedience to the lusty strokes given by some thirty paddles which made the water foam on either side of the frail craft packed with men.
“But it’s absurd. The skipper ought to have given the order long ago.”
“And filled the surface with dead and dying men floating and struggling amongst the shattered pieces of the canoe?”
“Yes: why not? It’s war, sir—war.”
“But war when it is a necessity ought to be carried on in as humane a fashion as is possible.”
“With people like this? Bah! Why, if they once get aboard they will spear us to a man, or batter our heads with their war clubs.”
“They would if they could,” said Murray quietly.
“They will, I tell you,” said Roberts excitedly.
“No, they will not, old chap, for the skipper won’t let them.”
“Oh, you!” exclaimed Roberts, who stamped one foot down upon the deck in his excitement. “Why, you are as foolish as our officers.”
“Speak gently, or some one will be hearing you,” said Murray quietly.
“I want some one to hear me!” exclaimed the lad. “We are giving all our chances away.”
“That we are not! I’ve been trying to calculate how we shall stand for distance when the Seafowl glides off on the other tack.”
“So have I,” cried Roberts furiously, “and it will be with the crews of two of those war canoes on board spearing and stabbing us.”
“Indeed!” said Murray, in quite a drawl. “That doesn’t agree with my calculation. I make it that they will be about fifty yards astern, and beyond spear-throwing distance.”
“And I tell you that you are all wrong, Frank.”
“Well, one of us is, old chap, for certain.”
“You!” said Roberts emphatically. “No, I think not, old fellow. You see, too, that I have the skipper’s opinion on my side.”
“The skipper’s opinion isn’t worth a pinch of powder. He’s a crack-brained lunatic. Here, what do you mean by that?”
“Only to turn my hand into a tompion to stop your fiery, foolish words, old fellow,” replied Murray. “You’d look nice if any one carried your remarks to the captain.”
“I’m only doing my duty, sir, and am trying to save our ship from the attack of these savages who are bearing down upon us.”
“And setting your knowledge of navigation and the management of the Seafowl above that of the captain.”
“I tell you I have lost faith in the skipper.”
“Of the lieutenant—”
“He does not see our peril.”
“And the wisdom of our old and experienced warrant officers,” continued Murray.
“There,” said the midshipman, “look at that! Not a shot fired, and those two leading canoes abreast of us. There’ll be a massacre directly.”
“Bravo!” whispered Murray excitedly. “Wonderfully done! You miserable old croaker, wasn’t that splendid?”
A minute before, the lad who had remained cool and self-contained during what seemed to be a perilous time, had watched without comprehending the action of the forward guns’ crews, who, in obedience to the orders given by the first lieutenant, seized upon the capstan bars and stood ready to starboard and port, waiting for something anticipated.
Then as the Seafowl answered to her helm and Roberts was turning frantic with excitement as he felt that the savages were bound to be aboard directly, the sloop careened over from the force of the breeze when her course was altered, there was a dull crashing sound and her stem cut one long war canoe in two amidships, leaving the halves gliding alongside in company with some fifty or sixty struggling and swimming naked savages, some of whom began to climb aboard by the stays, others by the fore chains; but as each fierce black head rose into sight, there was a tap given by a well-wielded capstan bar, and black after black dropped back into the water, to glide astern, stunned or struggling, to be picked up by his companions in the second boat, which was being overtaken by others, bristling with spears, while the vessel was a cable’s length ahead and steadily increasing its speed.
“Now then, Dick, what about my calculation?” said Murray, giving his companion a poke in the side. “Pretty near, wasn’t I?”
“Humph! Luck—chance,” grumbled Roberts ill-humouredly.
“Of course! But wasn’t the captain right?”
“No; he ought to have given the savage wretches another lesson.”
“A bloodthirsty one,” said Murray. “Pooh! Don’t be such a savage, Dick.”
“I’m not, sir,” retorted the midshipman angrily. “What are our weapons of war for unless to use?”
“Oh yes; of course, when they are wanted. If I were a captain I shouldn’t shrink for a minute about firing broadsides and sinking our enemies in times of necessity, any more than I should have minded burning out such a hornets’ nest as that yonder; but the captain was quite right over this business. Look at the wretched creatures, regularly defeated.”
“They’ve been allowed to escape, sir,” said Roberts haughtily, “and I feel ashamed of our commander.”
“I don’t,” said Murray, laughing. “I think he’s a peculiar eccentric fellow, ready to say all kinds of unnecessary things; but he’s as brave as a lion—braver, for I believe lions are precious cowards sometimes.”
“Pooh!” ejaculated Roberts.
“And the more I know of him the better I like him.”
“And I like him the less, and I shall never rest till I can get an exchange into another ship.”
“I don’t believe you,” said Murray, laughing merrily.
“You don’t! Why—”
“Pst! The skipper,” whispered Murray.
For the captain had approached the two midshipmen, his spy-glass under his arm and his face puckered up with a good-humoured smile.
“Laughing at it, eh?” he said. “That was a novel evolution of war, young gentlemen, such as you never saw before, I’ll be bound. There; we might have shattered up the noble black king’s fleet and left the river red with what we did and the sharks continued afterwards, but my plan and the master’s conning of the vessel answered all purposes, and left my powder magazine untouched ready for the time when we shall be straining every nerve, gentlemen, to overtake that Yankee’s schooner. That’s what we have to do, Mr Roberts; eh, Mr Murray?”
“Yes, sir; and the sooner the better,” replied the latter.
“The sooner the better? Yes,” said the captain, nodding; “and if we have to sink her that will be work more worthy for our metal. But patience, patience. Yes; for sailors like better work than sinking a few savage canoes. But, as I said, patience. You hot-blooded boys are always in such a hurry. All in good time. I’m not going to rest till I have got hold of my smooth, smiling Yankee, and I promise you a treat—some real fighting with his crew of brutal hounds. I’ll sink his schooner, or lay the Seafowl alongside, and then—it will be risky but glorious, and you boys shall both of you, if you like, join the boarders. What do you say to that?”
The captain did not wait for an answer, but tucked his telescope more closely under his arm and marched aft, to stand gazing over the stern rail at the last of the war canoes, which disappeared directly in one of the river bends, while the sloop glided rapidly on towards the muddy river’s mouth.
“Well, Dick, how do you feel now?” said Murray, smiling.
Roberts knit his brows into a fierce frown as if ready to resent any remark his messmate might make. But the genial, open, frank look which met his disarmed him of all annoyance, and he cleared his throat with a cough.
“Oh, I don’t agree with him about the treatment of those blacks,” he said. “There’s a want of stern, noble justice about his running down that canoe.”
“But it answered all purposes, Dick.”
“Humph! Maybe; but it looked so small, especially when we had all our guns loaded and the men ready for action.”
“Patience,” said Murray merrily, taking up the captain’s words. “Patience! You boys—hot-blooded boys are always in such a hurry. Wait a bit, old chap, and when we catch up to the Yankee we’re to have a turn at the boarding. You’ll have a try, eh?”
“Will I?” said the boy, screwing up his features and setting his teeth hard. “Will I! Yes!”
“Mean it?”
“Yes, I believe so,” said Roberts thoughtfully. “I felt ready for anything when those war canoes were coming on, and I believe I should feel just the same if the lads were standing ready to board the schooner. But I don’t know; perhaps I should be all of a squirm. I don’t want to brag. It all depends. Those who make the most fuss, Frank, do the least. We shall see.”
“Yes,” said Murray, looking at his comrade with a curious, searching gaze; “we shall see.”
Chapter Fifteen.
The Doctor is Riled.
It was with a peculiar feeling of relief that all on board the sloop passed out into the open and saw the dull green banks of the mangrove forest fading away astern. For there had been a haunting feeling of depression hanging over the vessel which seemed to affect the spirits of officers and men.
“Hah!” said the doctor, coming up to where the two middies were gazing over the stern rail, “that’s a comfort, boys. I can breathe freely now.”
“Yes,” said Murray; “the air seems so much fresher and makes one feel more elastic, sir. Gives one more of an appetite.”
“What!” said the doctor drily. “More of an appetite, eh? I never noticed that you two wanted that. Gracious, how much do you want to devour!”
“Oh, I say, doctor, I don’t eat so much,” said Murray, protesting.
“No, sir; it isn’t so much; it’s too much.”
“You’re mixing us up, doctor,” said the lad mischievously, and he gave the professional gentleman a peculiarly meaning look. “You were thinking of Roberts.”
“Here, what’s that?” said the middy sharply. “I’m sure I never eat more than a fellow of my age and size should.”
“Oh, I say, Dick,” said Murray. “Hear him, doctor? Why, I’ve seen the mess steward open his eyes sometimes with wonder.”
“Tchah! He’s always opening his eyes with wonder, staring at everything. He’s a regular idiot.”
“Ah, well,” said Murray, “I don’t want to draw comparisons.”
“Then don’t do it,” cried Roberts warmly.
“Don’t be so peppery, my lad,” said the doctor.
“Well, I don’t want to be accused of gluttony or eating to excess.”
“Pooh! Don’t mind what he says,” said the doctor good-humouredly. “I hate excess, but it does me good to see growing boys make a hearty meal.”
“Frank Murray’s too fond of bantering, doctor,” said Roberts; and then, involuntarily passing a finger tenderly over the spots where the incipient bits of whisker had been singed off, “I don’t quite look upon myself as a growing boy.”
“Oh, don’t you?” said the doctor, rather gruffly. “I should have thought you had not done putting on inches. There, never mind Murray’s chaff. By the way, why do you keep shaving yourself down the cheeks with that finger? does the skin feel tender where you were so much scorched?”
“Yes, doctor, a little,” replied the youth innocently enough.
“H’m, yes, but that cream I gave you does good, doesn’t it?”
“Oh yes, doctor.”
“Nasty scorching you fellows all had. I quite expected to have some bad patients—burns and spear wounds. Lucky escapes, all of you. That Titely was the worst, but the way in which a good healthy sailor’s flesh heals up is wonderful. It’s just like cutting into a piece of raw native indiarubber before it has been fooled about and manufactured up with brimstone—vulcanised, as they call it. You lads ought to bear it in mind, in case you get a cut or a chop. All that’s wanted is to see that the wound is thoroughly clean and dry, and then squeeze the sides up together and the flesh adheres after the fashion of a clean cut in indiarubber. Ah, I like a good clean cut.”
“What!” cried the lads together, as half laughingly they stared at the speaker in surprise.
“Well, what are you both looking at? I don’t mean that I personally like cuts; but they’re pleasant to get healed up—not like bullet wounds or ragged holes through a fellow.”
“No,” said Murray; “not like holes.”
“Not that I mind a clean bullet hole through the flesh so long as it does not encounter a bone.”
“Exactly, doctor; so long as it does not encounter a bone,” said Murray drily.
“That’s where the trouble begins, sir,” said the doctor, smacking his lips and making the two middies exchange glances. “You see, you get a complicated fracture of the bone with tiny fragments that refuse to show where they are commencing irritation and that sort of thing.”
“Yes, doctor,” said Murray drily; “but aren’t we getting into an uncomfortable discussion?”
“No, sir, a most interesting one; but when I spoke it was not all about injured bones or ordinary shot-holes or cuts; I was saying how glad I was to be out of that river and mangrove swamp where your West Coast fever haunts the low lands, and miasmatic emanations are always ready to pounce upon people and set up tasks for the hardest-worked man in the ship.”
“To do what, doctor?” said Roberts.
“I thought I spoke very plainly, young gentleman; I said set up tasks for the hardest-worked man in the ship.”
“But that sounds as if you—that is to say—I—I—You don’t mean yourself, sir?” said Roberts, in a stammering, half-confused way.
“Not mean myself, sir?” said the doctor angrily. “Why, who else could I mean?”
“That’s what puzzled me, sir,” said Roberts, staring. “Frank Murray and I have always thought—”
“Here, I say,” cried Murray, laughing and enjoying the verbal engagement that had sprung up like a squall in the tropics, “don’t you begin dragging me into the discussion.”
“Exactly! Certainly not,” cried the doctor hotly. “If there is any need for it I can tackle Master Murray afterwards. I am dealing with you, sir. You gave me to understand that you did not consider I was the most hard-worked man in the ship.”
“Very well then,” cried Roberts warmly, “if you will have it that way, I don’t.”
“Oh! Indeed!” said the doctor angrily. “Then what about the last few days, when I am suddenly brought face to face with a score of wounded men, and with no one to help me but a surgeon’s mate or dresser who is as stupid as men are made?”
“Wounded, sir?” said Roberts.
“Yes, sir, wounded. Burned, if you like it better. Singed and scorched. It all comes under the broad term of casualties, does it not?”
“I suppose so, sir,” said Roberts sulkily.
“Better tell me that my services were not called for, and that you could all have done without me. I call what I have gone through hard work, and tell you, sir, that it was a time of great anxiety.”
“So it must have been, doctor,” put in Murray, “and I feel very grateful for the way you did away with my pain.”
“There’s a sneak!” cried Roberts angrily. “Who began to bully me for dragging him into the discussion?”
“You are the sneak, sir,” said the doctor, “for trying to dodge out of the matter like this. Murray spoke out like a man.”
“Boy,” growled Roberts.
“Very well, sir; like a grateful boy, if that pleases you better. Like one who appreciates my service and is not ready to turn up his nose at what such fellows as you call ‘doctor’s stuff,’ just as if a medical man or a surgeon thought of nothing but wasting the ship’s stores upon those who are glad enough to come to them when they are out of sorts, and most often from their neglect of common sense precautions, or from over indulgence in the good things of life.”
“Precious lot of chances we get to indulge in the good things of life on board ship!” said Roberts bitterly.
“Let me tell you, sir,” said the doctor, shaking his finger at the midshipman, “that there is nothing better for a growing lad than the strict discipline and the enforced temperance and moderate living of shipboard. Better for you, though, if you had not so much idleness.”
“Idleness, sir!” cried the lad.
“Yes, sir. You want more work. Ah! You may sneer. Perhaps not quite so much as I have to do, but more than you get. Yes, sir, when you know better you will learn to see that the doctor’s life is a very arduous one.”
“But you get lots of time, sir, for natural history and fishing and shooting.”
“Not ‘lots of time,’ sir, as you term it, but some time certainly; and what is that but work in the cause of science? And look here, Mr Roberts, whenever I do get an opportunity for going ashore shooting or botanising, or have a boat out for fishing or dredging, do I not invariably enlist the services of you or Mr Murray?”
“Hear, hear!” cried the latter, in the most parliamentary way.
“Thank you, Mr Murray,” said the doctor. “I shall not forget this.”
“Don’t you believe him, doctor,” cried Roberts. “He doesn’t mean it. He’s only currying favour.”
“Nothing of the kind, sir,” said the doctor sharply. “I flatter myself that I understand Mr Murray better than you do, sir. I understand his temperament quite as well as I do yours, sir, which is atrabilious.”
“Eh?” exclaimed Roberts. “What’s that, sir?”
“Black bilious, sir, if you really don’t know. I have studied your temperament, sir, and let me tell you that you would be doing very wisely if you came to me this evening for a little treatment.”
“But I’ve only just got out of your hands, sir,” cried the midshipman, in a voice full of protest.
“That was for the superficial trouble, sir, due to the scorching and singeing. Now it is plain to me that what you went through in that attack upon the blacks’ town has stirred up the secretions of your liver.”
“Oh, doctor, that it hasn’t!” cried the lad. “And I’m sure that I want no physicking.”
“I think I know best, sir. If you were in robust health there would be none of that display of irritability of temper that you evince. You as his messmate must have noticed this irritability, Mr Murray?”
“Constantly, sir,” said that individual solemnly. “Oh you!” growled Roberts fiercely. “Just you wait!”
“There!” cried the doctor triumphantly. “You are proving the truth of my diagnosis, Mr Roberts. Come to me before night, and I will give you what you require. There, you have given me ample reason for strongly resenting your language, Mr Roberts, but now I fully realise the cause I shall pass it over. You require my services, sir, and that is enough.”
“I don’t require them, sir,” cried the lad, boiling over with passion now. “I was hurt a good deal over the expedition, but now that’s better; there’s nothing whatever the matter with me; and you are taking advantage of your position and are about to force me to swallow a lot of your horrid stuff. I won’t, though; see if I do!”
“You see, Mr Murray,” said the doctor, smiling in a way which irritated one of his hearers almost beyond bearing, “he is proving all I have said to the full. There, be calm, Roberts, my dear boy; we have left the horrible river and coast behind, and a few days out upon the broad ocean will with my help soon clear away the unpleasant symptoms from which you have been suffering, and—”
“Not interfering, am I, doctor?” said a voice which made the two lads start round.
“Not in the least, Anderson; not in the least. Mr Roberts here is a trifle the worse for our run up that muddy river, but I shall soon put that right with our trip through the healthier portions of our globe.”
“Through the healthier portions of the globe, doctor!” said the chief officer. “Why, what do you mean?”
“Mean? Only that the West Coast of Africa is about as horrible a station as unhappy man could be placed in by the powers that be, while now we are going where—”
“Why, doctor, you don’t mean to say that you do not understand where we are going?”
“I mean to say I do know, sir—away from the swampy exhalations and black fevers of the horrible district where we have been cruising, and out upon the high seas.”
“Yes, to cross them, doctor,” said the lieutenant drily. “We are going to leave the black fevers behind, but in all probability to encounter the yellow.”
“What!” cried the doctor. “I did not understand—”
“What the captain said? Well, I did, sir. The skipper has only just now been vowing to me that he will never rest until he has run down that slaver.”
“Ah! Yes, I understand that,” said the doctor. “Then that means—?”
“A long stern chase through the West Indian Islands, and perhaps in and out and along the coasts of the Southern American States—wherever, in fact, the plantations are worked by slaves whose supplies are kept up by traders such as the scoundrel who cheated us into a run up that river where his schooner was lying. Why, doctor, it seems to me that we are only going out of the frying-pan into the fire.”
“Dear me, yes,” said the doctor. “You are quite right. Then under these circumstances, Mr Roberts,” he continued, turning sharply round upon the midshipman, “the sooner you commence your treatment the better.”
“But really, sir,” began Roberts, who looked so taken aback that his messmate had hard work to contain himself and master the outburst of laughter that was ready to explode.
“Don’t argue, Mr Roberts,” said the doctor importantly. “I do not know how you find him in your dealings, Anderson,” he continued, “but as a patient I must say that of all the argumentative, self-willed young men I ever encountered Mr Roberts carries off the palm.”
“Yes, he has a will of his own, my dear doctor,” said the lieutenant, giving the middy a meaning glance, “but you must take him in hand. I prescribe my way; when you take him in hand next you must prescribe yours.”
“I intend so doing,” said the doctor, and he walked aft with the chief officer.
This was Frank Murray’s opportunity, and hurrying to the side, he leaned his arms upon the bulwarks and laughed till his sides ached before his companion fully realised the fact, his attention having been taken up by the pair who were going towards where the captain was slowly pacing the deck with his hands behind him.
“Oh, grinning at it all, are you?” said Roberts now. “It’s very funny, isn’t it! An abominable, pragmatical, self-satisfied ass, that’s what he is; and are we almost grown-up men to be handed over to be treated just as he pleases? No; I’ll resign the service first. Yes, laugh away, my fine fellow! You see if I don’t pay you out for this! Oh, go it! But you see if I take any of his beastly old stuff!”
Chapter Sixteen.
“Cold Pison.”
Roberts kept his word that same evening, for just as the darkness was setting in and the two lads had walked forward to lean over the side and gaze down at the unruffled transparent sea and wonder which were reflections of the golden glory of the stars and which were the untold myriads of phosphorescent creatures that, as far down as eye could penetrate, spangled the limpid sea, the lad suddenly gave his companion a nudge with his elbow.
“What do you mean by that?” asked Murray.
“Look here, and I’ll show you.”
“Well, I’m looking; but it’s too dark to see what you are fumbling over.”
“How stupid! What a blind old bat you are! Well, it’s a piece of plum duff.”
“Why, you’re like a school-boy,” said Murray.
“Oh no, I’m not.”
“You may say oh no you’re not, but fancy me saving up a bit of cold pudding from dinner and bringing it out of my jacket pocket to eat!”
“Ah, but you have no reason for doing it. I have.”
“What, are you going to use it as a bait?”
“That’s it, my son; but I’m not going to use hook or line.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“Throw it over for one of the sharks we saw cruising about before sundown.”
“But what for? You don’t want to pet sharks with cold pudding.”
“No. Guess again.”
“Stuff! Speak out.”
“Poison—cold pison.”
“What! Why, you would never see the brute that took it turn up in the darkness.”
“Don’t want to, my son,” said the lad solemnly.
“Look here, Dick, it’s too hot, to-night, and I’m too tired and sleepy to try and puzzle out your conundrums, so if you want me to understand what you’re about you had better speak out. What a rum chap you are!”
“I am.”
“One hour you’re all a fellow could wish; the next you are red-hot to quarrel. See how you were this afternoon when the doctor was talking to you.”
“Ah! I was out of temper then, but now I feel so happy that a child might play with me.”
“Glad to hear it, but I don’t want to be child-like, and I don’t want to play.”
“Perhaps not, but you’ll be interested.”
“Fire away, then. What has made you so happy?”
“I had an idea.”
“Well, look sharp, or I shall fall asleep with my head resting on my arms.”
“Well, I’ll tell you,” said Roberts. “You see that solid lump of pudding?”
“I told you before I can’t see it.”
“Feel it then.”
“No, I’ll be hanged if I do! Why should I feel a nasty piece of cold pudding?”
“Don’t be so jolly particular; it’s quite dry.”
“Look here, Dick, are you going off your head?”
“I thought I was when the idea came, for it set me laughing so that I could not stop myself.”
“Come, tell me what it all means, or I shall go below to my berth. What is there in all this?”
“Poison, I tell you.”
“Yes, you told me before; but what does it mean?”
“You see that lump of pudding; well, there’s poison in it.”
“Dick Roberts, I’m hot and easily aggravated. If you go on like this I shall be as quarrelsome as you were this afternoon.”
“Well, there, it was all my idea that I had this afternoon. I got that lump of pudding from the cook, took it down to my berth, pulled out my knife, put the box on the side of the pudding, and cut out a piece exactly the size of the box.”
“Wh-a-a-t! You mean you cut a piece out of the box just the size of the pudding?”
“No, I don’t, my son. You don’t understand yet. Can’t you see I’m talking about a pill-box?”
“Oh-h-h!”
“Now don’t you see? I cut a hole in the pudding and slipped the box in, and then made a stopper of the pudding I had cut out, and corked up the hole with the box inside.”
“I begin to see now,” said Murray. “A pill-box full of poison to kill the shark that swallows the poison.”
“I don’t care whether it kills the fish or no as long as I get rid of the stuff.”
“Now you are getting confused again. Why should you try to poison a shark like this? What good would it do—what difference would one shark make out of the thousands which infest the sea?”
“Oh, Franky, what a Dummkopf you are, as the Germans say!”
“Don’t care what the Germans say, and I dare say I am a stupid-head, for I can’t make out what you are driving at.”
“You can’t? Why, I’m going to make the shark take the poison instead of taking it myself.”
“But what poison?”
“Old Reston’s: the two blue pills. Then I shall pitch the bottle of horrible draught overboard. I don’t care what becomes of that so long as it sinks to the bottom.”
“Oh, I see plainly enough now,” said Murray.
“And pretty well time, my boy! Wasn’t it a capital idea?”
“No,” said Murray bluntly. “Stupid, I say.”
“Not it, old chap. Don’t you see that it is liver medicine?”
“I suppose so.”
“Well, sharks have livers. They fish for them in the Mediterranean, take out the livers, and boil them down to sell for cod liver oil.”
“Then that’s a lie,” said Murray. “Perhaps it’s being a lie made you think of it.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll have to tell the doctor a lie when he asks you if you took the medicine.”
“But he won’t ask.”
“He will, for certain.”
“How do you know? Did he ever ask you?”
“Well, no,” said Murray thoughtfully; “I can’t say that he did. He never gave me any, only touched me up a bit when I was hurt.”
“Then don’t you be so jolly knowing, my fine fellow,” cried Roberts. “You can’t tell if he hasn’t doctored you, and I’m quite sure about it, for I know well from nasty experience of his ways that he will not bother one with questions as you think. He gives the fellows physic to take, and just asks them next day how they feel.”
“Well, that’s what I say,” cried Murray triumphantly. “Isn’t that just the same?”
“No, not a bit of it. He just asks them how they feel next day; that’s all. He takes it for granted that they have swallowed his boluses and draughts. He’ll ask me to-morrow how I feel, and I shall tell him I am all right.”
“You’ll tell him a lie then. Very honourable, upon my word!”
“Here’s a pretty how-de-do, Mr Ultra-particular, with your bully bounce about telling a lie! I shan’t do anything of the kind. I shall tell him I’m all right because I am quite well, thank you. Bother him and his horrible old stuff! I know I should be pretty mouldy and out of sorts if I took it. Let him ask the shark how he feels, if he gets the chance, for here it goes. Pudding first, which means pills—there!”
A faint splash followed a movement on the part of the midshipman, and Murray saw the calm sea agitated, and faint flashes of phosphorescent light appear, while directly after it was as if something made a rush; the depths grew ablaze with pale lambent cold fire, and Roberts gave vent to an ejaculation expressive of his delight.
“A shark for a shilling,” he cried, “and a big one too. You see if he doesn’t hang about the sloop and show himself in the morning, turning up his eyes on the lookout for whoever it was that tried to poison him.”
“Turning up his eyes!” said Murray. “Nonsense! If it was as you say the shark would be turning up its white underparts and floating wrong way up.”
“Maybe; but hold hard a minute; it’s rather soon to exhibit the other dose, as old Reston calls it. I’m not going to make an exhibition of myself, though, this time, so here goes. You see if Jack Shark doesn’t go for the bottle as soon as I throw it overboard. Here goes!” Splash!
“How stupid!” said Roberts. “I ought to have drawn the cork.”
“Oh no,” said Murray, laughing. “I don’t suppose the directions said, to be taken in water.”
“Um—no. But what’s to be done? Look; he’s got it.”
For as the descent of the bottle Roberts had thrown in could be traced by the way in which the tiny phosphorescent creatures were disturbed, lower and lower through the deep water, there was another vivid flash made by some big fish as it gave a tremendous flourish with its tail, and the midshipman rubbed his hands with delight.
“He’s got it, I’m sure,” he cried. “But what’s to be done? No use to pitch in a corkscrew.”
“Not a bit, Dick,” replied Murray cheerily.
“What a pity! I ought to have known better. He’s got it, but the glass will stop the draught from having the proper effect.”
“Oh no; perhaps not,” said Murray, laughing. “I’ve read that sharks have wonderful digestions.”
“Well, let’s hope this one has. I shall like to look out for him to-morrow watching for the doctor, as he squints up from the wake of the sloop.”
“More likely to be looking up for you, old fellow. The doctor didn’t throw the bottle in.”
“Oh, well, never mind that. I don’t suppose the horrible beast knows the difference. I’ve got rid of the stuff, anyhow; that’s all I care about; and nobody knows but you.”
“Beg pardon, gentlemen,” said a voice out of the darkness; “was you a-chucking anything overboard?”
There was a short time of silence, for Murray waited so as to give his messmate a chance to answer the question; but as the latter made no reply he took the duty upon himself.
“That you, Tom May?” he asked.
“Ay, ay, sir. Somebody chucked somethin’ overboard twiced, and I was wondering whether it was you gents.”
“Why?” said Roberts shortly. “Couldn’t it have been one of the watch?”
“No, sir; they’re aft, or t’other side of the ship.”
“Well, it was, Tom.”
“Oh, all right, sir. You’ll ’scuse me asking? I only did ’cause the skipper’s very partickler since one of the lads got making away with some of the ship’s stores, and there’s no knowing what mischief the boys might be up to. Then, o’ course, sir, there’s nothing for me to report to the officer of the watch?”
“No: nothing at all, Tom. Haven’t got anything more to throw in, have you, Murray?”
“Not so much as a single pill,” said Murray drily.
“Eh? No, of course not. The water’s so still and clear, Tom,” continued the middy hurriedly, “you can see the fish dash after anything, making the sea flash quite deep down.”
“Oh yes, sir, I’ve seen that. It’s the sharks, sir; there’s often one hanging about right below the keel on the lookout for anything that may be chucked overboard. I believe, sir, as they’ve got sense enough to know that they may have a bit o’ luck and have a chance at an onlucky chap as slips overboard or gets tempted into having a bathe. Wonderful cunning critters, sir, is sharks. I’m always glad when there’s a hook with a bit o’ pork trailed overboard and one’s hauled aboard and cut up to see what he’s got inside.”
“What!” said Roberts excitedly. “Ripped up to see what’s inside?”
“Yes, sir. Don’t you remember that one we caught ’bout a month ago? Oh no, of course not. You was ashore with the skipper’s gig at Seery Leony. That there was a whopper, sir, and he did lay about with his tail, till the cook had it off with a lucky chop of his meat axe. That quieted the beggar a bit, and give him a chance to open Mr Jack Shark up and see what he’d had for dinner lately.”
“And did you find anything, Tom?” asked Roberts.
“Find anything, sir!” replied the man. “I should just think we did! I mean, the lads did, sir; I warn’t going to mess myself up with the bloodthirsty varmint.”
“Of course not,” said Murray mischievously; “but what did they find? Anything bad?—Physic bottle, for instance? Bother! What are you doing, Roberts?” For his companion gave him a savage dig in the dark with his elbow. “Oh, nothing!”
“Physic bottle, sir?” continued the sailor wonderingly. “Not as I know on. More likely to ha’ been an empty rum bottle. Wouldn’t ha’ been a full un,” added the man, chuckling. “But I tell you what they did find, sir, and that was ’bout half-a-dozen o’ them round brass wire rings as the black women wears on their arms and legs.”
“Ugh!” ejaculated Roberts, with a shudder. “How horrible!”
“Yes, sir; that seemed to tell tales like. Looked as if Jack had ketched some poor black women swimming at the mouth o’ one of the rivers as runs down into the sea.”
“Possibly,” said Murray.
“Yes, sir; that’s it. I did hear once of a shark being caught with a jack knife inside him. It warn’t no good, being all rusted up; but a jack knife it was, all the same, with a loop at the end o’ the haft where some poor chap had got it hung round him by a lanyard—some poor lad who had fell overboard, and the shark had been waiting for him. You see, sir, such things as brass rings and jack knives wouldn’t ’gest like, as the doctor calls it.”
“No; suppose not,” said Murray, who added, after drawing back a little out of the reach of Roberts’s elbow, “and a bottle of physic would not digest either.”
“Not it, sir,” replied the man, “onless it got broken, or the cork come out.”
“Er-r-r!” growled Roberts, in quite a menacing tone.
“He wouldn’t like it, o’ course, sir,” said the man, speaking as if he were playing into the midshipman’s hand and chuckling the while. “Doctors’ stuff arn’t pleasant to take for human sailors, and I don’t s’pose it would ’gree with sharks. I’ve been thinking, though, that I should like to shy a bottle o’ rum overboard, corked up, say, with a bit o’ the cook’s duff. That would ’gest, and then he’d get the rum. Think it would kill him, sir?”
“No, I don’t,” said Murray. “Ask Mr Roberts what he thinks. He’s very clever over such things as that; eh, Roberts?”
“Oh, stuff!” cried the middy. “Nonsense!”
“You might tell him what you think, though,” said Murray. “You know how fond you are of making experiments.”
“Do talk sense,” cried the lad petulantly. “Look here, May, I think it would be a great waste of useful stores to do such a thing.”
“Yes, sir; so do I,” said the man; “and that’s talking sense, and no mistake. Beg pardon, gentlemen, but what do you think of the skipper’s ideas?”
“What about?” asked Murray sharply. “We don’t canvass what our officers plan to do.”
“Don’t know about canvassing them, sir,” said the man, “but I meant no harm, only we’ve been talking it over a deal in the forc’sle, and we should like to know whether the captain means to give up trying after the slave skipper.”
“No, certainly not.”
“That’s right, sir,” said the man eagerly. “Glad on it. But it’s got about that we was sailing away from the coast here, which is such a likely spot for dropping upon him.”
“Well, I don’t mind answering you about that, Tom. Mind, I don’t want my name to be given as an authority, but I believe that Captain Kingsberry means to cross to the western shores and search every likely port for that schooner, and what is more, to search until he finds where she is.”
“Hah!” ejaculated the sailor. “If the skipper has said that, sir, he has spoken out like a man. Hooroar! We shall do it, then, at last. But I dunno, though, sir,” added the man thoughtfully.
“Don’t know what?” asked Murray.
“Oh, nothing, sir.”
“Bother! Don’t talk like that,” cried Murray. “Nothing is more aggravating than beginning to say something and then chopping it off in that way. Speak out and say what you mean.”
“’Tain’t no good, sir,” said the man sulkily.
“No good?”
“No, sir. Why, if I was to say what I’d got inside my head you’d either begin to bullyrag me—”
“Nonsense, May! I’m sure I never do.”
“Well, then, sir, call me a hidjit, and say it was all sooperstition.”
“Well, that’s likely enough,” said Murray. “You sailors are full of old women’s tales.”
“Mebbe, sir,” said the man, shaking his head slowly; “but old women is old, and the elders do grow wise.”
“Sometimes, Tom,” said Murray, laughing, “and a wise old woman is worth listening to; but you can’t say that for a man who talks like a foolish old woman and believes in all kinds of superstitious nonsense.”
“No, sir: of course not, sir,” said the man solemnly; “but there is things, you know.”
“Oh yes, I do know that, Tom—such as setting sail with a black cat on board.”
“Oh, well, sir, come!” protested the sailor warmly. “You can’t say as a man’s a hidjit for believing that. Something always happens if you do that.”
“I could say so, Tom,” replied the middy, “but I’m not going to.”
“Well, sir, begging your pardon as gentleman, I’m werry sorry for it; but there, you’re very young.”
“Go on, Tom.”
“That’s all, sir. I warn’t going to say no more.”
“But you are thinking a deal more. That was as good as saying that I’m very young and don’t know any better.”
“Oh, I didn’t go so far as to think that, sir, because you’re a hofficer and a gentleman, and a scholar who has larnt more things than I ever heerd of; but still, sir, I dessay you won’t mind owning as a fellow as has been at sea from fourteen to four-and-thirty has picked up things such as you couldn’t larn at school.”
“Black cats, for instance, Tom?”
“Yes, sir. Ah, you may laugh to yourself, but there’s more than you think of about a black cat.”
“A black skin, for instance, Tom, and if the poor brute was killed and skinned he’d look exactly like a white cat or a tortoise-shell.”
“Oh, that’s his skin, sir; it’s his nature.”
“Pooh! What can there be in a black cat’s nature?”
“Don’t know; that’s the mystery on it.”
“Can’t you explain what the mystery is?”
“No, sir, and I never met a shipmate as could.”
“Bother the cat! It’s all rubbish, Tom.”
“Yes, sir, and it bothers the man; but there it is, all the same. You ask any sailor chap, and—”
“Yes, I know, Tom; and he’ll talk just as much nonsense as you.”
“P’raps so, sir, but something bad allus happens to a ship as has a black cat aboard.”
“And something always happens to a ship that has any cat on board. And what is more, something always happens to a ship that has no cat at all on board. Look at our Seafowl, for instance.”
“Yes, sir, you may well say that,” said the man sadly. “The chaps have talked about it a deal, and we all says as she’s an unfortnit ship.”
“Oh, you all think so, do you, Tom?”
“Yes, sir, we do,” said the man solemnly.
“Then you may depend upon it, Tom, that there’s a black cat hidden away somewhere in the hold.”
“Ah! Come aboard, sir, in port, after the rats? That would account for it, sir, and ’splain it all,” cried the man eagerly. “You think that’s it, do you, sir?”
“No, I don’t, Tom; I’m laughing at you for being such an old woman. I did give you the credit of having more sense. I’m ashamed of you.”
“Thankye, sir,” said the man sadly.
“You are quite welcome, Tom,” said Murray, laughing; “but I suppose you can’t help all these weak beliefs.”
“No, sir, we can’t help it, some of us,” said the man simply; “it all comes of being at sea.”
“There being so much salt in the water, perhaps,” said Murray.
“Mebbe, sir; but I don’t see what the salt could have to do with it.”
“Neither do I, Tom, and if I didn’t know what a good fellow you are, and what a brave sailor, I should be ready to tell you a good deal more than I shall.”
“Go on, sir; I don’t mind, sir. I know you mean well.”
“But look here; I’m sorry to hear that your messmates think the Seafowl is an unfortunate craft. But not all, I hope?”
“Yes, sir; we all think so.”
“That’s worse still, Tom. But you don’t mean to forsake her—desert—I hope?”
“Forsake her—desert? Not me! She’s unlucky, sir, and no one can’t help it. Bad luck comes to every one sometimes, same as good luck does, sir. We takes it all, sir, just as it comes, just as we did over the landing t’other day—Titely was the unlucky one then, and got a spear through his shoulder, while though lots of their pretty weapons come flying about us no one else was touched; on’y got a bit singed. He took it like a man, sir.”
“That he did, Tom. It was most plucky of him, for he was a good deal hurt.”
“Yes, sir—deal more than you young gents thought for. But no, sir: forsake or desert our ship? Not we! She’s a good, well-found craft, sir, with a fine crew and fine officers. They ain’t puffick, sir; but they might be a deal worse. I’m satisfied, sir.”
“I believe you, Tom,” said Murray, laughing, “and there is no black cat on board, for if there were some one must have seen her or him before now, and it wouldn’t have made a bit of difference.”