Chapter Fifteen.

Chapter Fifteen.Captain Oliver had directed me to meet him at the “George,” and I found him standing on the steps of that aristocratic hotel to which very few midshipmen of those days ever thought of going. My mother, being well acquainted with the internal economy of a man-of-war, had provided me with a chest of very moderate dimensions, at which no First-Lieutenant, however strict, could cavil. It and I were deposited at the hotel, and the waiter, seeing the kind way in which the Captain treated me, must have taken me for a young lord at least, and ordered the porter to carry it forthwith inside.“That will do,” said the Captain, as he eyed it. “And now you must come and get measured for your uniforms, and procure other necessaries, as I hope we may be off in two or three days at furthest.”I found that Captain Oliver had paid off the “Grecian,” and commissioned a new frigate, the “Orion,” to which most of his officers and men had been turned over, and that she was about to proceed to the Indian station. “There was no use telling your poor mother this,” he observed. “The thoughts that you would be so long separated from her would only have added to her grief at parting from you, and as far as you are concerned, my boy, the time will soon pass by, and you will come back nearly ready for a swab on your shoulder.”The tailor, under the Captain’s inspection, having examined the contents of my chest, made a note of the things I required besides. My outfit was soon complete.“And now, my lad, my coxswain will take charge of you and your chest,” said the Captain, “and see you safely on board.”Greatly to my delight, Toby Kiddle soon afterwards made his appearance. “Why, Mr Burton,” he said, and I thought his eyes twinkled as he addressed me with that title. “Why, you see, the Captain’s last coxswain slipped his cable a few months ago, and as I was one of the Captain’s oldest shipmates, and he knew he could trust me, he has appointed me, and I never wish to serve under a better captain.” Having purchased a few other articles with Farmer Cocks’ five-pound note, which Toby Kiddle suggested I should find useful, we chartered a wherry to go to the frigate.Among other things I got two or three pounds of tobacco. “You see, Mr Burton, if you deal it out now and then to the men, it will show them that you have not forgotten them; and though you are on the quarter-deck, that you are not proud, as some youngsters show themselves, but still have a kindly feeling towards them.” I gladly followed his advice. As we approached the “Orion,” and I observed her handsome hull, her well-squared yards, and her trim and gallant appearance, I felt proud of belonging to so fine a frigate. The boatswain’s whistle was piping shrilly as we went up the side, and as my eye fell on the person who was sounding it, I had an idea that I recollected him. I asked Toby who he was. “Your old friend, Bill King,” he said. “I wanted to see whether you would remember him; I am glad you do. It is a good sign when old friends are not forgotten.”While Kiddle got my chest up, and paid the boatman, I went and reported myself to Mr Schank as come on board; and very proud I felt as I stepped on the quarter-deck in my bran-new midshipman’s uniform. The First-Lieutenant, who was stumping on his wooden leg here and there with active movements, watching the proceedings of the various gangs of men at work in different ways, stopped when he saw me and smiled kindly. He had grown thinner, if not taller, since I last saw him, and looked somewhat like the scathed trunk of a once lofty poplar, battered and torn by a hundred tempests.“You know the ways of a ship, Ben, pretty well, but as you are still somewhat small, I have asked Mr Oldershaw—one of the mates—to stand your friend, and he will give you a help also in navigation. And, Ben, mind, do not you be ashamed of asking him anything you want to know. You may live a long time on board ship, and still learn nothing about seamanship, if you do not keep your eyes open, and try to get others to explain what you do not understand.” As Mr Schank spoke, he beckoned to a grey-headed old mate who just then came on deck. “This is the youngster I spoke to you about, Mr Oldershaw,” he said. “You will have an eye on him, and I hope you will be able to give a good report of his behaviour.” I naturally looked up at my protector’s countenance, and was well-satisfied with the expression I saw on it. He soon afterwards took me down below, and on my way told me that I was to be in his watch, and that if I did not become a good seaman before the cruise was up, it should not be his fault.“You see, Ben, I feel an interest in you on many accounts. I entered before the mast, and was placed on the quarter-deck, much as you may be said to have been, and was also left an orphan at an early age. I have not been very fortunate as to promotion; indeed, though my family were very respectable in life, I had no interest. I suppose some day I shall be made a lieutenant, and then I do not expect to rise much higher; but a lieutenant is a gentleman by rank, and though the half-pay is not overwhelming, yet, as I have saved a little prize-money, I shall have enough to keep me till I am placed under the green sward. When I visit some quiet churchyard, I often think how sweet a resting-place it would be after having been knocked about all one’s life on the stormy ocean, and after having met with so many disappointments and sorrows.”I do not know what induced Oldershaw to speak to me in that way, for in truth he was one of the happiest and most contented people on board, so it seemed to me. While others grumbled and growled he never uttered a word of complaint in public, but took everything as it came, in the most good-humoured manner. He was a true friend to me from that time forward, and gave me many a lesson in wisdom as well as in other matters, which was of value to me through life. Tom Twigg who was the only midshipman I knew, received me cordially. There was another young gentleman, who, though he might have been older, was considerably smaller than I was. There was a roguish, mischievous look about the countenance of Dicky Esse, which showed me at once that I must be prepared for tricks of all sorts from him. Another mate was seated in the berth, to whom Oldershaw introduced me. His name, I found, was Pember. He was a broad-shouldered, rough-looking man, with a suspiciously red countenance and nose, his features marked and scored with small-pox and his eyelids so swelled, that only a portion of the inflamed balls could be seen. He uttered a low growl as I entered.“We have kids enough on board already,” he observed. “They will be sending the nurses with them next.”“Never fear, Pember, he will soon grow out of his kidhood,” observed Oldershaw. “We want young blood to supply the place of us oldsters when we slip off the stage.”“You mean to be placed over our heads, and to trample us down,” said Pember. “Why there is our skipper. I was a passed midshipman when he came to sea, and now he is a post-captain, and I am where I was, and shall be probably to the end of the chapter.”As soon as I could leave the berth I hurried to the boatswain’s cabin, to which Bill King had just then descended. “You do not remember me, Mr King,” said I, shaking him by the hand, “but I recollect you, and that you were one of my father’s oldest shipmates, and my mother’s kindest friend.”“Bless my heart, Ben, is it you?” he exclaimed, for he really had not at first known me. “Well, I did not think it. I am glad, that I am, boy, to see you, whom I have dandled in my hands many a time, come to sea on the quarter-deck. You must be an admiral, Ben, some day, that you must. Those who have sent you to sea must give you a shove upwards while you have still youth and strength and health in your favour. To many, promotion comes too late to do them any real good. When hope is knocked out of a man he is fit for very little in this world, or rather, I should say, nothing!”“And Mrs King?” I asked; “how is she?”“I could not bring her on board again, Ben, but she is very well, and as strong and active as ever. She has set up a coffee-shop in Gosport, which gives her something to do, and will help her to keep the pot boiling till I get back.”We had a fine run down Channel, and a fair wind carried us along, till we were in the latitude of the Azores. Our orders were, not to go out of our way, but to do as much damage and harm to the enemy as we conveniently could on our voyage to the South. We consequently kept a bright look-out, in the hopes of falling in with a ship worth capturing. Several times we had chased vessels, but they either managed to escape us during the night, or proved to be neutrals. At length, however, when about twenty leagues to the north of Teneriffe, we saw a sail standing apparently towards that island. That she was a Spaniard seemed probable, and there were great hopes that she might prove a merchant vessel. We made all sail, hoping to overhaul her before the sun went down, but she was a fast craft, and kept well ahead of us. Hour after hour passed by. All the glasses on board were constantly turned towards her. Great doubts at length began to be entertained of our capturing her after all. In our berth, especially, some of the young gentlemen were ready to sell their expected share of the prize-money, while others of more sanguine temperament were not unwilling to buy. Dicky Esse, especially, wanted to purchase my share.“What will you give, Esse?” I asked, not, however, making up my mind that the transaction was a very wise one.“Ten shillings would be handsome, but I have no objections to give you thirty. She is very likely to be in ballast, and we are more likely still not to catch her, so that you at all events will be the gainer of thirty shillings.”“I should not object to the thirty shillings, but if we take her I may possibly get thirty pounds, and more than that if she is a richly-laden craft.”“Don’t have anything to do with the business, Ben,” exclaimed Oldershaw. “I do not bet, and do not intend to begin, but I say there are five chances to one that we shall take her, so keep your prospects in your pocket, my boy, and I hope they will prove good ones.” Although the hammocks were piped down at the usual hour, very few officers or men turned in. It was well-known that Captain Oliver would not let the chase escape as long as there was a prospect of getting hold of her. There was a bright moon, and by the master’s calculation we should sight Teneriffe before dawn. A sailor’s eye alone could have made out the shadowy form of the chase ahead of us, but not for a moment was she lost sight of. The wind fell as the night drew on, and the sea became calm, rippled over only by little wavelets, upon which the moonbeams played brightly. It was a lovely night. Bright as was the moon, many of the stars were to be seen also, vying with her in splendour. Yet here were we, with thousands of stars looking down upon us, about to commit an act of rapine and slaughter, for such, lawful as it might be thought, was the deed we were about to do. It was Oldershaw’s watch, and I was walking the deck with him. I made some remark of that sort. He responded to it.“Yes, Ben,” he said, “I wonder what the bright seraphic beings up there—for surely there must be such in that pure heaven above us—are thinking of the proceedings of us mortals down here below. We have to fight, and it is right to defend our country, but I tell you, Ben, I have seen a good deal of it, and, putting what people call glory aside, it is very fearful, disgusting, dirty work. It makes a man feel like a devil for a time, and it is devilish, there is no doubt about that. I am in for it, and I expect to have plenty more of the same sort of work to do, but I am very sure that for men to kill each other is hateful to the God who made us. There is only one thing worse, and that is when they lie, and cheat, and deceive each other, and it seems often to me that more than one-half of the world is employed in doing one or the other.”“Have we gained much on the chase, Mr Schank?” asked the Captain, who just then appeared on deck.“The best part of a mile, sir, I should think, in the course of the last hour. If the wind does not fall still more, we shall come up with her soon after daylight. She is heavily laden, and requires a breeze to send her along.”Oldershaw at length persuaded me to go below and turn in, promising to have me called should anything occur. When I came on deck in the morning, as the hammocks were piped up, the chase was still some distance off, running in for the land, which appeared on our starboard-bow. We followed her pertinaciously, however, though, as the wind frequently shifted, we did not gain upon her as at first. At length, however, we saw her run in for a bay with a fort on one side of it. “We have her safe now,” observed Captain Oliver to Mr Schank. “Before this time to-morrow I hope she will be ours.”Having reconnoitred the bay, and found that the fort was rather too strong to attack in the day, Captain Oliver stood off the land once more. It soon became known that a cutting-out expedition was in contemplation, and the men were busily employed in sharpening their cutlasses, and looking to the locks of their pistols. From the appearance of the chase, there was no doubt that she was a merchant vessel, and it was hoped would offer no great resistance. Every precaution which prudence could dictate was taken. Four boats were ordered to be got ready, and towards evening we again stood in for the land. A bright look-out had been kept all day, so that there was no risk of the expected prize having made her escape. I greatly longed to be in one of the boats, but Oldershaw told me there was no use asking, as he was sure the Captain would not let me go. He, too, was disappointed, finding that he was not to be one of the party. The Second and Third Lieutenants, with Pember and the master, commanded the two boats, and, all things being ready, away they pulled. They had got to some distance when it was discovered that they had gone without signal-rockets or port-fires. Oldershaw, on this, volunteered to carry them in the dinghy, and I begged that I might accompany him.“Well, look after the boy, and take care he gets into no mischief, Mr Oldershaw,” said the Captain, “and he may then go.”I was delighted. Toby Kiddle and Pat Brady offered to pull the boat, for, of course, she had no regular crew. Two other men also volunteered, and away we went. The other boats, however, had got a long way ahead. We could only just distinguish the dim outline of the bay. We pulled rapidly on, when, just as we were at the entrance of the harbour, suddenly, from the deck of the ship, there burst forth loud shouts and cries, the flashing of pistols and musketry, and the clashing of steel, the sounds coming over to us across the calm water. Our men were hotly engaged, of that there was no doubt, but, from the frequent flashes of pistols, and the shouts of Spaniards as well as Englishmen, it was doubtful which was gaining the day. The contest was evidently a fierce one. Oldershaw’s blood, in spite of his principles, was quickly up, and he evidently thought very little about me or anything else, except getting on deck as fast as he could, and joining in the fray. Our crew strained every nerve to get alongside. As we pulled by, the shouts and cries increased. The whole deck seemed one blaze of fire from the rapid discharge of pistols and muskets, while every now and then fearful shrieks burst from the bosoms of those who had been cut down. The ship was a high one, and there was some difficulty in climbing up out of our small boat.“Here’s a lower port open!” exclaimed Pat Brady, springing up and hauling himself into it. We all followed, and found ourselves the sole possessors of the lower-deck. Whether our people had the fore or after part of the deck we could not ascertain. We were about, however, to make our way up, when we caught sight of several figures descending. They were Spaniards, going apparently to the magazine for more ammunition. Before they were aware of our presence, our men had sprung upon them and cut them down. Scarcely had they ceased to breathe when three other persons came down, apparently for the same object. Led by Oldershaw, Kiddle and Brady with the others were upon them, and they too were cut down. It being supposed, probably, that they were skulking, a still larger number of people came down to look them up in the same incautious manner, and before they had time to cry out they also were slaughtered. An officer and several more men, swearing fearfully at the cowardice of their companions, now jumped below, and were in like manner cut down. I scarcely like to say how many people were killed in this fearful way. Our men now made a dash aft with such fury that the Spaniards on deck thought only of defending their lives. Two dead bodies came tumbling down the hatchway, as well as another poor fellow, only half killed, with a desperate wound on his shoulder. I should say from the way he groaned, and an exclamation he uttered, I felt sure he was an Englishman. I ran up to him, “Who are you?” I asked. It was one of our men.“Is that you, Mr Burton?” he answered, in a faint voice. “It is going hard with us, for the ship was full of people and they are fighting well.” Oldershaw, who just then came up, heard the words. “We will turn the tide then!” he exclaimed. “Come on, lads!”We on this made our way forward, and reached the fore hatchway. Pat Brady sprang up first, shouting, “The ship is ours! The ship is ours!”Oldershaw then taking the lead, we rushed aft, where our men were fighting with a number of Spanish soldiers and seamen. With loud shouts we dashed at our enemies, who, not seeing our numbers and supposing that a fresh set of boarders had gained the deck, began to give way.We pressed on them, those who refused to yield or escape over the taffrail being speedily cut down. The ship was ours, but we had still a good deal to do. We had lost several people, killed and wounded, and we had a large number of prisoners to keep in order. As yet the garrison in the fort, not knowing who had gained the day, had not commenced firing at us. We had time, therefore, to secure our prisoners. Sail was then made on the ship, and her cable being cut, the boats towed her head round. The topsails were sheeted home, and with a light land-breeze we stood out of the bay. Having to pass pretty near the fort, Mr Tilhard, the Second-Lieutenant, ordered the greater number of the people to go below, he and Kiddle taking the helm; while the few who remained on deck were directed to keep close under the bulwarks. It was fortunate that these arrangements were made, for, as we drew near, the Spaniards began to pepper us pretty sharply with round-shot and musketry, the bullets flying thickly about us, while several shots struck the hull. Had they been better gunners they might have done more damage. Happily no one was hurt, though the sails were riddled and the white planks laid bare in several places.As soon as the fight was over I thought of the poor fellow who had been tumbled below. I went to look for him with a lantern. For some time I could not discover where he was, for several Spaniards who had been killed had fallen down at the same spot. Pat, who accompanied me, at length discovered him. “He will not want any more human aid,” he observed, holding the lantern to his face. “The Spaniards have already done for him.” Whether, if instant aid had been afforded him, the man might have escaped, I do not know, but his wound was a desperate one, and he had apparently bled to death. We were received with loud cheers from the frigate’s decks, as in the grey dawn of morning we passed close under her stern.

Captain Oliver had directed me to meet him at the “George,” and I found him standing on the steps of that aristocratic hotel to which very few midshipmen of those days ever thought of going. My mother, being well acquainted with the internal economy of a man-of-war, had provided me with a chest of very moderate dimensions, at which no First-Lieutenant, however strict, could cavil. It and I were deposited at the hotel, and the waiter, seeing the kind way in which the Captain treated me, must have taken me for a young lord at least, and ordered the porter to carry it forthwith inside.

“That will do,” said the Captain, as he eyed it. “And now you must come and get measured for your uniforms, and procure other necessaries, as I hope we may be off in two or three days at furthest.”

I found that Captain Oliver had paid off the “Grecian,” and commissioned a new frigate, the “Orion,” to which most of his officers and men had been turned over, and that she was about to proceed to the Indian station. “There was no use telling your poor mother this,” he observed. “The thoughts that you would be so long separated from her would only have added to her grief at parting from you, and as far as you are concerned, my boy, the time will soon pass by, and you will come back nearly ready for a swab on your shoulder.”

The tailor, under the Captain’s inspection, having examined the contents of my chest, made a note of the things I required besides. My outfit was soon complete.

“And now, my lad, my coxswain will take charge of you and your chest,” said the Captain, “and see you safely on board.”

Greatly to my delight, Toby Kiddle soon afterwards made his appearance. “Why, Mr Burton,” he said, and I thought his eyes twinkled as he addressed me with that title. “Why, you see, the Captain’s last coxswain slipped his cable a few months ago, and as I was one of the Captain’s oldest shipmates, and he knew he could trust me, he has appointed me, and I never wish to serve under a better captain.” Having purchased a few other articles with Farmer Cocks’ five-pound note, which Toby Kiddle suggested I should find useful, we chartered a wherry to go to the frigate.

Among other things I got two or three pounds of tobacco. “You see, Mr Burton, if you deal it out now and then to the men, it will show them that you have not forgotten them; and though you are on the quarter-deck, that you are not proud, as some youngsters show themselves, but still have a kindly feeling towards them.” I gladly followed his advice. As we approached the “Orion,” and I observed her handsome hull, her well-squared yards, and her trim and gallant appearance, I felt proud of belonging to so fine a frigate. The boatswain’s whistle was piping shrilly as we went up the side, and as my eye fell on the person who was sounding it, I had an idea that I recollected him. I asked Toby who he was. “Your old friend, Bill King,” he said. “I wanted to see whether you would remember him; I am glad you do. It is a good sign when old friends are not forgotten.”

While Kiddle got my chest up, and paid the boatman, I went and reported myself to Mr Schank as come on board; and very proud I felt as I stepped on the quarter-deck in my bran-new midshipman’s uniform. The First-Lieutenant, who was stumping on his wooden leg here and there with active movements, watching the proceedings of the various gangs of men at work in different ways, stopped when he saw me and smiled kindly. He had grown thinner, if not taller, since I last saw him, and looked somewhat like the scathed trunk of a once lofty poplar, battered and torn by a hundred tempests.

“You know the ways of a ship, Ben, pretty well, but as you are still somewhat small, I have asked Mr Oldershaw—one of the mates—to stand your friend, and he will give you a help also in navigation. And, Ben, mind, do not you be ashamed of asking him anything you want to know. You may live a long time on board ship, and still learn nothing about seamanship, if you do not keep your eyes open, and try to get others to explain what you do not understand.” As Mr Schank spoke, he beckoned to a grey-headed old mate who just then came on deck. “This is the youngster I spoke to you about, Mr Oldershaw,” he said. “You will have an eye on him, and I hope you will be able to give a good report of his behaviour.” I naturally looked up at my protector’s countenance, and was well-satisfied with the expression I saw on it. He soon afterwards took me down below, and on my way told me that I was to be in his watch, and that if I did not become a good seaman before the cruise was up, it should not be his fault.

“You see, Ben, I feel an interest in you on many accounts. I entered before the mast, and was placed on the quarter-deck, much as you may be said to have been, and was also left an orphan at an early age. I have not been very fortunate as to promotion; indeed, though my family were very respectable in life, I had no interest. I suppose some day I shall be made a lieutenant, and then I do not expect to rise much higher; but a lieutenant is a gentleman by rank, and though the half-pay is not overwhelming, yet, as I have saved a little prize-money, I shall have enough to keep me till I am placed under the green sward. When I visit some quiet churchyard, I often think how sweet a resting-place it would be after having been knocked about all one’s life on the stormy ocean, and after having met with so many disappointments and sorrows.”

I do not know what induced Oldershaw to speak to me in that way, for in truth he was one of the happiest and most contented people on board, so it seemed to me. While others grumbled and growled he never uttered a word of complaint in public, but took everything as it came, in the most good-humoured manner. He was a true friend to me from that time forward, and gave me many a lesson in wisdom as well as in other matters, which was of value to me through life. Tom Twigg who was the only midshipman I knew, received me cordially. There was another young gentleman, who, though he might have been older, was considerably smaller than I was. There was a roguish, mischievous look about the countenance of Dicky Esse, which showed me at once that I must be prepared for tricks of all sorts from him. Another mate was seated in the berth, to whom Oldershaw introduced me. His name, I found, was Pember. He was a broad-shouldered, rough-looking man, with a suspiciously red countenance and nose, his features marked and scored with small-pox and his eyelids so swelled, that only a portion of the inflamed balls could be seen. He uttered a low growl as I entered.

“We have kids enough on board already,” he observed. “They will be sending the nurses with them next.”

“Never fear, Pember, he will soon grow out of his kidhood,” observed Oldershaw. “We want young blood to supply the place of us oldsters when we slip off the stage.”

“You mean to be placed over our heads, and to trample us down,” said Pember. “Why there is our skipper. I was a passed midshipman when he came to sea, and now he is a post-captain, and I am where I was, and shall be probably to the end of the chapter.”

As soon as I could leave the berth I hurried to the boatswain’s cabin, to which Bill King had just then descended. “You do not remember me, Mr King,” said I, shaking him by the hand, “but I recollect you, and that you were one of my father’s oldest shipmates, and my mother’s kindest friend.”

“Bless my heart, Ben, is it you?” he exclaimed, for he really had not at first known me. “Well, I did not think it. I am glad, that I am, boy, to see you, whom I have dandled in my hands many a time, come to sea on the quarter-deck. You must be an admiral, Ben, some day, that you must. Those who have sent you to sea must give you a shove upwards while you have still youth and strength and health in your favour. To many, promotion comes too late to do them any real good. When hope is knocked out of a man he is fit for very little in this world, or rather, I should say, nothing!”

“And Mrs King?” I asked; “how is she?”

“I could not bring her on board again, Ben, but she is very well, and as strong and active as ever. She has set up a coffee-shop in Gosport, which gives her something to do, and will help her to keep the pot boiling till I get back.”

We had a fine run down Channel, and a fair wind carried us along, till we were in the latitude of the Azores. Our orders were, not to go out of our way, but to do as much damage and harm to the enemy as we conveniently could on our voyage to the South. We consequently kept a bright look-out, in the hopes of falling in with a ship worth capturing. Several times we had chased vessels, but they either managed to escape us during the night, or proved to be neutrals. At length, however, when about twenty leagues to the north of Teneriffe, we saw a sail standing apparently towards that island. That she was a Spaniard seemed probable, and there were great hopes that she might prove a merchant vessel. We made all sail, hoping to overhaul her before the sun went down, but she was a fast craft, and kept well ahead of us. Hour after hour passed by. All the glasses on board were constantly turned towards her. Great doubts at length began to be entertained of our capturing her after all. In our berth, especially, some of the young gentlemen were ready to sell their expected share of the prize-money, while others of more sanguine temperament were not unwilling to buy. Dicky Esse, especially, wanted to purchase my share.

“What will you give, Esse?” I asked, not, however, making up my mind that the transaction was a very wise one.

“Ten shillings would be handsome, but I have no objections to give you thirty. She is very likely to be in ballast, and we are more likely still not to catch her, so that you at all events will be the gainer of thirty shillings.”

“I should not object to the thirty shillings, but if we take her I may possibly get thirty pounds, and more than that if she is a richly-laden craft.”

“Don’t have anything to do with the business, Ben,” exclaimed Oldershaw. “I do not bet, and do not intend to begin, but I say there are five chances to one that we shall take her, so keep your prospects in your pocket, my boy, and I hope they will prove good ones.” Although the hammocks were piped down at the usual hour, very few officers or men turned in. It was well-known that Captain Oliver would not let the chase escape as long as there was a prospect of getting hold of her. There was a bright moon, and by the master’s calculation we should sight Teneriffe before dawn. A sailor’s eye alone could have made out the shadowy form of the chase ahead of us, but not for a moment was she lost sight of. The wind fell as the night drew on, and the sea became calm, rippled over only by little wavelets, upon which the moonbeams played brightly. It was a lovely night. Bright as was the moon, many of the stars were to be seen also, vying with her in splendour. Yet here were we, with thousands of stars looking down upon us, about to commit an act of rapine and slaughter, for such, lawful as it might be thought, was the deed we were about to do. It was Oldershaw’s watch, and I was walking the deck with him. I made some remark of that sort. He responded to it.

“Yes, Ben,” he said, “I wonder what the bright seraphic beings up there—for surely there must be such in that pure heaven above us—are thinking of the proceedings of us mortals down here below. We have to fight, and it is right to defend our country, but I tell you, Ben, I have seen a good deal of it, and, putting what people call glory aside, it is very fearful, disgusting, dirty work. It makes a man feel like a devil for a time, and it is devilish, there is no doubt about that. I am in for it, and I expect to have plenty more of the same sort of work to do, but I am very sure that for men to kill each other is hateful to the God who made us. There is only one thing worse, and that is when they lie, and cheat, and deceive each other, and it seems often to me that more than one-half of the world is employed in doing one or the other.”

“Have we gained much on the chase, Mr Schank?” asked the Captain, who just then appeared on deck.

“The best part of a mile, sir, I should think, in the course of the last hour. If the wind does not fall still more, we shall come up with her soon after daylight. She is heavily laden, and requires a breeze to send her along.”

Oldershaw at length persuaded me to go below and turn in, promising to have me called should anything occur. When I came on deck in the morning, as the hammocks were piped up, the chase was still some distance off, running in for the land, which appeared on our starboard-bow. We followed her pertinaciously, however, though, as the wind frequently shifted, we did not gain upon her as at first. At length, however, we saw her run in for a bay with a fort on one side of it. “We have her safe now,” observed Captain Oliver to Mr Schank. “Before this time to-morrow I hope she will be ours.”

Having reconnoitred the bay, and found that the fort was rather too strong to attack in the day, Captain Oliver stood off the land once more. It soon became known that a cutting-out expedition was in contemplation, and the men were busily employed in sharpening their cutlasses, and looking to the locks of their pistols. From the appearance of the chase, there was no doubt that she was a merchant vessel, and it was hoped would offer no great resistance. Every precaution which prudence could dictate was taken. Four boats were ordered to be got ready, and towards evening we again stood in for the land. A bright look-out had been kept all day, so that there was no risk of the expected prize having made her escape. I greatly longed to be in one of the boats, but Oldershaw told me there was no use asking, as he was sure the Captain would not let me go. He, too, was disappointed, finding that he was not to be one of the party. The Second and Third Lieutenants, with Pember and the master, commanded the two boats, and, all things being ready, away they pulled. They had got to some distance when it was discovered that they had gone without signal-rockets or port-fires. Oldershaw, on this, volunteered to carry them in the dinghy, and I begged that I might accompany him.

“Well, look after the boy, and take care he gets into no mischief, Mr Oldershaw,” said the Captain, “and he may then go.”

I was delighted. Toby Kiddle and Pat Brady offered to pull the boat, for, of course, she had no regular crew. Two other men also volunteered, and away we went. The other boats, however, had got a long way ahead. We could only just distinguish the dim outline of the bay. We pulled rapidly on, when, just as we were at the entrance of the harbour, suddenly, from the deck of the ship, there burst forth loud shouts and cries, the flashing of pistols and musketry, and the clashing of steel, the sounds coming over to us across the calm water. Our men were hotly engaged, of that there was no doubt, but, from the frequent flashes of pistols, and the shouts of Spaniards as well as Englishmen, it was doubtful which was gaining the day. The contest was evidently a fierce one. Oldershaw’s blood, in spite of his principles, was quickly up, and he evidently thought very little about me or anything else, except getting on deck as fast as he could, and joining in the fray. Our crew strained every nerve to get alongside. As we pulled by, the shouts and cries increased. The whole deck seemed one blaze of fire from the rapid discharge of pistols and muskets, while every now and then fearful shrieks burst from the bosoms of those who had been cut down. The ship was a high one, and there was some difficulty in climbing up out of our small boat.

“Here’s a lower port open!” exclaimed Pat Brady, springing up and hauling himself into it. We all followed, and found ourselves the sole possessors of the lower-deck. Whether our people had the fore or after part of the deck we could not ascertain. We were about, however, to make our way up, when we caught sight of several figures descending. They were Spaniards, going apparently to the magazine for more ammunition. Before they were aware of our presence, our men had sprung upon them and cut them down. Scarcely had they ceased to breathe when three other persons came down, apparently for the same object. Led by Oldershaw, Kiddle and Brady with the others were upon them, and they too were cut down. It being supposed, probably, that they were skulking, a still larger number of people came down to look them up in the same incautious manner, and before they had time to cry out they also were slaughtered. An officer and several more men, swearing fearfully at the cowardice of their companions, now jumped below, and were in like manner cut down. I scarcely like to say how many people were killed in this fearful way. Our men now made a dash aft with such fury that the Spaniards on deck thought only of defending their lives. Two dead bodies came tumbling down the hatchway, as well as another poor fellow, only half killed, with a desperate wound on his shoulder. I should say from the way he groaned, and an exclamation he uttered, I felt sure he was an Englishman. I ran up to him, “Who are you?” I asked. It was one of our men.

“Is that you, Mr Burton?” he answered, in a faint voice. “It is going hard with us, for the ship was full of people and they are fighting well.” Oldershaw, who just then came up, heard the words. “We will turn the tide then!” he exclaimed. “Come on, lads!”

We on this made our way forward, and reached the fore hatchway. Pat Brady sprang up first, shouting, “The ship is ours! The ship is ours!”

Oldershaw then taking the lead, we rushed aft, where our men were fighting with a number of Spanish soldiers and seamen. With loud shouts we dashed at our enemies, who, not seeing our numbers and supposing that a fresh set of boarders had gained the deck, began to give way.

We pressed on them, those who refused to yield or escape over the taffrail being speedily cut down. The ship was ours, but we had still a good deal to do. We had lost several people, killed and wounded, and we had a large number of prisoners to keep in order. As yet the garrison in the fort, not knowing who had gained the day, had not commenced firing at us. We had time, therefore, to secure our prisoners. Sail was then made on the ship, and her cable being cut, the boats towed her head round. The topsails were sheeted home, and with a light land-breeze we stood out of the bay. Having to pass pretty near the fort, Mr Tilhard, the Second-Lieutenant, ordered the greater number of the people to go below, he and Kiddle taking the helm; while the few who remained on deck were directed to keep close under the bulwarks. It was fortunate that these arrangements were made, for, as we drew near, the Spaniards began to pepper us pretty sharply with round-shot and musketry, the bullets flying thickly about us, while several shots struck the hull. Had they been better gunners they might have done more damage. Happily no one was hurt, though the sails were riddled and the white planks laid bare in several places.

As soon as the fight was over I thought of the poor fellow who had been tumbled below. I went to look for him with a lantern. For some time I could not discover where he was, for several Spaniards who had been killed had fallen down at the same spot. Pat, who accompanied me, at length discovered him. “He will not want any more human aid,” he observed, holding the lantern to his face. “The Spaniards have already done for him.” Whether, if instant aid had been afforded him, the man might have escaped, I do not know, but his wound was a desperate one, and he had apparently bled to death. We were received with loud cheers from the frigate’s decks, as in the grey dawn of morning we passed close under her stern.

Chapter Sixteen.Our prize—a ship of six hundred tons, and mounting fourteen guns—called the “Santiago,” proved to be of considerable value. A prize crew being put on board, we steered for Saint Helena, where it was possible we might find a purchaser, and if not, Captain Oliver resolved to take her to the Cape. Fortunately, at Saint Helena we found the officers and crew of an Indiaman, which had been burnt at sea; and the Company’s agent there was very glad to purchase our prize, and send her on, most of the goods being suitable to the Indian market. On concluding the bargain, the agent presented the Captain with a couple of young tigers. They were somewhat inconvenient pets, though they would have been valuable had we been going home. However, as we had no others on board, he accepted them, thinking they might serve to amuse the ship’s company, and having an idea, I believe, that they might be perfectly tamed. We in the midshipmen’s berth welcomed them with glee, and at once began to teach them to perform all sorts of tricks. They would let us ride on their backs, and they learned to leap through hoops and over ropes, and they would rush round and round the deck at a rapid rate, and soon they became the most playful, engaging creatures possible. Oldershaw was the only person who expressed doubts about their amiability.“If I were the Captain, I would clip their claws and draw their teeth before I would let them play with you youngsters,” he observed. “Their tricks may be playful now, but they will serve you a scurvy one before long, or their nature is more changed than I believe it to be.”Of course we laughed at his prognostications, and continued to amuse ourselves with our pets as usual. The Cape was reached. We took on board a supply of live and dead stock, having now a long run before us across the Indian Ocean, into that part of the world where I had first seen the light—the China Seas. We had several sheep and a supply of hay to feed them on. Some of the men had an idea that our tamed pets would gladly feed on the hay, but their carnivorous teeth refused to munch it. They, however, turned suspiciously hungry glances towards the newcomers. Oldershaw observed it, “They have probably never eaten sheep or midshipmen,” he observed, “but the nature to do so is in them, and depend upon it their nature will have sway if we give them the opportunity.” However, as the animals were tolerably well-fed, and were carefully caged, they gave no exhibition when anyone was watching them of their evil propensities, if they possessed them. When our stock of fresh meat was exhausted, first one sheep and then another was killed to supply the Captain and officers’ tables, a portion falling to the lot of some of the men’s messes. Their skins, which were peculiarly fine, were cleansed and prepared by the armourer, who happened also to understand the trade of a currier. Two of them were hung up to dry, when it came into the brains of Tom Twig and Dicky Esse to clothe themselves in the skins, and in high glee they came prancing about the deck, baa-ing away, imitating two frolicsome lambs, with a tolerable amount of accuracy. They afforded much amusement to us, their messmates, and not a little to the men who happened to be on deck. Not content with amusing us, off they went, into the neighbourhood of the tigers’ cage. It ought to have been shut, and generally was shut. So exact was their imitation of nature that the beasts, after watching them with great eagerness for some moments, could no longer resist their natural propensities. With fierce leaps they rushed against the door of their cage. It gave way, and out they sprang. One bound carried them on to the backs of their expected prey. In another instant Tom and Dicky Esse would have been torn to pieces, had they not, in a way midshipmen alone could have done, slipped out of their skins, and rolled pale with terror across the deck. The animals, finding only the dry skins, were about to make another spring, when the man who had charge of them and had witnessed the scene, came rushing up with his stick of office, and several other men coming to his assistance with ropes, the savage creatures were forthwith secured. Both the midshipmen were rather more frightened than hurt, and in consideration of their terror they escaped any further consequences of their conduct which was looked upon by the First-Lieutenant as somewhat derogatory to the dignity which they were in duty bound to maintain.After leaving the Cape, we were constantly becalmed, and then, getting further east, fell in with a hurricane, from the effects of which nothing but first-rate seamanship, under God’s Providence, could have preserved the frigate. We were now getting much in want of water, and Captain Oliver, unwilling to go out of his way to any of the settlements to obtain it, resolved to search for a supply at the first island we should fall in with. At length we came in sight of a large island, with yellow sands, and green palm trees waving in the breeze. Nothing could be more attractive, but it appeared that nobody on board had been there before. The master knew the existence of the island on the chart, but whether it was inhabited or not, or by whom, he could not say. As no anchorage was found, the ship was hove to, and three boats, with casks, under the command of the Second-Lieutenant, and my friend Oldershaw, and Pember, were directed to go on shore. I went with Oldershaw, and Twigg and Esse went in the other boats. We pulled into the bay abreast of the ship, where, between two projecting rocks, we found an excellent landing-place, and not far from it a stream of water, clear and limpid. As no natives appeared, the opinion was that that part of the island, at all events, was uninhabited, and this made us somewhat careless. All the casks being filled, the boats were sent back for a fresh supply, as we could not hope to find a better place for filling up with that important necessary. Pember, directing Tom Twigg to take charge of his boat, invited Dicky Esse and me to accompany him meantime on a stroll to see the island farther inland. He directed Toby Kiddle and Pat Brady to follow with a couple of muskets.“Not that they will be wanted,” he observed; “but if we do fall in with any natives, it will make them treat us with respect.”“If I were you, Pember, I would not go far from the bay,” observed Oldershaw, as he shoved off.“You are always uttering warnings, old Careful,” muttered Pember; and, leading the way, he turned his back on the sea and proceeded inland.The country was very beautiful. We soon came to a grove of cocoa-nuts, when Pember proposed that we should procure a supply. This, however, was more easily thought of than done. Pat Brady, who was the most active of the party, declared that he could manage it after the native fashion. He and Kiddle having placed the muskets against a tree, were considering the best way of mounting. We went first to one tree and then to another, to find one which seemed most easy to climb, with a satisfactory reward at the top of it for our trouble. Having made a band of sufficient strength with our handkerchiefs, Pat commenced his ascent. He had got some way up, Kiddle having helped him as far as he could reach, when suddenly a dozen dark-skinned savages sprang out from among the trees, and before we could draw our pistols they had brought us all to the ground. Forthwith they proceeded to bind our arms behind us. Pat, seeing there was no use going higher, came gliding down the tree, and was secured in the same manner. We endeavoured to make them understand that we had desired to do them no harm, and that if the cocoa-nuts were theirs, we should be happy to pay for them. Whether they understood us or not I cannot say, but without more ado, three of them attaching themselves to Pember, and a like number to each of the other men—one black fellow, however, only taking charge of Dicky and another of me—they dragged us off into the interior. In vain Pember struggled and expostulated. The fierce gleam of their dark eyes, and the keen blades of their glittering creeses which they flourished before us, showed that it would be dangerous to dispute the point with them. All we could do, therefore, was to move forward as they insisted, hoping that, when our absence was discovered, a strong party might be sent in pursuit of us, and that we might be recovered. We had not gone far when they were joined by another band of a similar number, and we could not help suspecting that they had been watching us all the time, but seeing so many armed men round the boats had not ventured to attack us. This made us still more regret our folly in having ventured alone into the country. On, on we went. We had great reason to fear that they had no intention of restoring us. At length they stopped at a village of bamboo huts, covered with cocoa-nut leaves, from which a number of women and children came forth to gaze at us. The children went shrieking away when they saw our white skins, while the women advanced cautiously and touched us, apparently to ascertain whether the red and white would come off.“Faith, they take us for white niggers!” said Pat Brady, observing the look of astonishment, not unmixed with disgust, with which the women regarded us. “It’s to be hoped they won’t set us to work as we do the blacks, though, to be sure, it would be better than eating us, and I don’t like the looks of those fellows at all, at all.”“Depend upon it, if they don’t eat us they will make us work, or why should they otherwise carry us off?” observed Kiddle. “These Malay fellows make slaves of all the people they can lay hands on. If it was not for that they would cut our throats.”These remarks made Dicky Esse and me feel very uncomfortable, till Pember observed that perhaps they had carried us off in the hopes of obtaining a ransom. This idea kept up our spirits a little; but as they continued to drag us on further and further into the country, our hope on that score greatly decreased. At length we reached another village, in which was a large hut. Under the shade of a wide-spreading verandah in front of it an old chief was seated on cushions; a dozen half-naked savages with drawn swords standing behind him. He was dressed in a dark-coloured turban, with a shawl over his shoulders, a belt, in which were three or four formidable looking daggers with jewelled hilts, and a curved sword by his side. His dark countenance was unpleasantly savage and morose, and we felt that our lives would be of little value if they depended upon the amiability of his disposition. Our captors arranged us before him, and then appeared to be explaining how they had got possession of us. He smiled grimly at the narration. As Pember, Dicky Esse, and I were placed in advance, it was evident that our captors looked upon us as of more value than the men. This made us hope that they were entertaining some thoughts of allowing us to be ransomed, for in every other way the men were likely to prove more useful to them than we should.After our captors had said all they had to say, the old chief made a few remarks in return. Before he had ceased speaking, several of his guards advanced towards us with their sharp-looking swords glittering in the sunbeams. It was a moment of intense anxiety. It seemed evident they intended to kill us. We could, however, neither fly nor defend ourselves.“I say, Ben, have you said your prayers?” whispered Dicky to me. “If not, it is time to begin.”Pember prepared to meet his fate with dogged resolution, his dark red countenance turning almost to an ashy hue. Kiddle and Brady, as I cast my eye on them, were evidently preparing to show fight.“Knock the fellow next you down, Pat,” said Toby, “and get hold of his cutlash. I will treat mine the same, and if we cannot get away we will die game.”Suddenly our expected executioners stopped, and stood waving their weapons at a short distance from our necks. The chief continued haranguing for some time, and when he ceased others stepped forth from the crowd and addressed him. Whether or not the chief had intended to kill us, we could not ascertain, but having kept us in most disagreeable suspense for half-an-hour or more, though it seemed several hours, the men with the swords faced about, and marched back to their former position. Our guards then carried us off to a hut at a little distance, into which we were all thrust, several men standing outside as a guard over us. After some time they brought us a mess of grain of some sort, well seasoned with pepper.“I suppose they don’t intend to kill us, or they would not give us this,” observed Pat, taking a handful from the bowl, as, of course, we were left to feed ourselves, with our fingers. “Faith, it’s not so bad, after all.”His example was followed by Dicky and me, and after a time Pember and Kiddle, unable any longer to restrain their appetites, also commenced eating. A supply of dry leaves and long grass, with several carpets, were brought in, and we were given to understand that they were to serve us as beds. This sort of treatment again raised our hopes that our captors might give us our liberty on receiving a ransom. Our difficulty would be to communicate with the ship.“They cannot expect any very large sum for us,” observed Pember, who, deprived of any stimulant, was getting sadly out of spirits. “The Captain would not consent to pay much for me, I am afraid, and you two youngsters are worth little enough.”“Speak for yourself,” answered Esse. “I rather think the Captain sets a higher estimation on me than you do.”“Whether or not, for the honour of the flag they will not desert us,” I observed.Pember on this gave a faint sickly laugh.“Few inquiries would be made at the Admiralty as to what had become of an old mate and two youngsters. Expended on a watering party—killed by savages. Such would be our epitaph, and the matter would be settled to the satisfaction of all parties.”No wonder, considering the circumstances, that our conversation did not take a more lively tone. Pat Brady, to be sure, did his best now and then to get up a laugh, but with very poor success.“Keep silence, man!” exclaimed Pember, at last, in a surly tone. “You will be singing out in a different way to-morrow morning when they get the ovens ready.”“Faith, I suppose they would be after making me into an Irish stew, or a dish of bubble and squeak!” exclaimed Pat, whose spirits were not to be quelled even with the anticipation of being turned into a feast for cannibals. I had an idea, however, that the people into whose hands we had fallen were not addicted to such practices, and was, therefore, not much influenced by the remarks which Pember occasionally made as to our probable fate. We were allowed to pass the night in quietness, and next morning another bowl of food was brought to us, with a basket of fruit of various sorts, very acceptable in that hot climate. We waited anxiously, expecting the arrival of a party from the frigate, either to rescue us by force, or to offer a ransom for our liberty; but no one appeared, nor did any of the natives, except the man who brought the food, come to the hut. Once, during an interval of silence, Esse declared he heard firing, but though we listened with all our might, the sounds reached no other ears. After a time, indeed, we all fancied we heard the boom of great guns, but even of that we could not be quite certain. Night again came round, and no one had come to look for us.

Our prize—a ship of six hundred tons, and mounting fourteen guns—called the “Santiago,” proved to be of considerable value. A prize crew being put on board, we steered for Saint Helena, where it was possible we might find a purchaser, and if not, Captain Oliver resolved to take her to the Cape. Fortunately, at Saint Helena we found the officers and crew of an Indiaman, which had been burnt at sea; and the Company’s agent there was very glad to purchase our prize, and send her on, most of the goods being suitable to the Indian market. On concluding the bargain, the agent presented the Captain with a couple of young tigers. They were somewhat inconvenient pets, though they would have been valuable had we been going home. However, as we had no others on board, he accepted them, thinking they might serve to amuse the ship’s company, and having an idea, I believe, that they might be perfectly tamed. We in the midshipmen’s berth welcomed them with glee, and at once began to teach them to perform all sorts of tricks. They would let us ride on their backs, and they learned to leap through hoops and over ropes, and they would rush round and round the deck at a rapid rate, and soon they became the most playful, engaging creatures possible. Oldershaw was the only person who expressed doubts about their amiability.

“If I were the Captain, I would clip their claws and draw their teeth before I would let them play with you youngsters,” he observed. “Their tricks may be playful now, but they will serve you a scurvy one before long, or their nature is more changed than I believe it to be.”

Of course we laughed at his prognostications, and continued to amuse ourselves with our pets as usual. The Cape was reached. We took on board a supply of live and dead stock, having now a long run before us across the Indian Ocean, into that part of the world where I had first seen the light—the China Seas. We had several sheep and a supply of hay to feed them on. Some of the men had an idea that our tamed pets would gladly feed on the hay, but their carnivorous teeth refused to munch it. They, however, turned suspiciously hungry glances towards the newcomers. Oldershaw observed it, “They have probably never eaten sheep or midshipmen,” he observed, “but the nature to do so is in them, and depend upon it their nature will have sway if we give them the opportunity.” However, as the animals were tolerably well-fed, and were carefully caged, they gave no exhibition when anyone was watching them of their evil propensities, if they possessed them. When our stock of fresh meat was exhausted, first one sheep and then another was killed to supply the Captain and officers’ tables, a portion falling to the lot of some of the men’s messes. Their skins, which were peculiarly fine, were cleansed and prepared by the armourer, who happened also to understand the trade of a currier. Two of them were hung up to dry, when it came into the brains of Tom Twig and Dicky Esse to clothe themselves in the skins, and in high glee they came prancing about the deck, baa-ing away, imitating two frolicsome lambs, with a tolerable amount of accuracy. They afforded much amusement to us, their messmates, and not a little to the men who happened to be on deck. Not content with amusing us, off they went, into the neighbourhood of the tigers’ cage. It ought to have been shut, and generally was shut. So exact was their imitation of nature that the beasts, after watching them with great eagerness for some moments, could no longer resist their natural propensities. With fierce leaps they rushed against the door of their cage. It gave way, and out they sprang. One bound carried them on to the backs of their expected prey. In another instant Tom and Dicky Esse would have been torn to pieces, had they not, in a way midshipmen alone could have done, slipped out of their skins, and rolled pale with terror across the deck. The animals, finding only the dry skins, were about to make another spring, when the man who had charge of them and had witnessed the scene, came rushing up with his stick of office, and several other men coming to his assistance with ropes, the savage creatures were forthwith secured. Both the midshipmen were rather more frightened than hurt, and in consideration of their terror they escaped any further consequences of their conduct which was looked upon by the First-Lieutenant as somewhat derogatory to the dignity which they were in duty bound to maintain.

After leaving the Cape, we were constantly becalmed, and then, getting further east, fell in with a hurricane, from the effects of which nothing but first-rate seamanship, under God’s Providence, could have preserved the frigate. We were now getting much in want of water, and Captain Oliver, unwilling to go out of his way to any of the settlements to obtain it, resolved to search for a supply at the first island we should fall in with. At length we came in sight of a large island, with yellow sands, and green palm trees waving in the breeze. Nothing could be more attractive, but it appeared that nobody on board had been there before. The master knew the existence of the island on the chart, but whether it was inhabited or not, or by whom, he could not say. As no anchorage was found, the ship was hove to, and three boats, with casks, under the command of the Second-Lieutenant, and my friend Oldershaw, and Pember, were directed to go on shore. I went with Oldershaw, and Twigg and Esse went in the other boats. We pulled into the bay abreast of the ship, where, between two projecting rocks, we found an excellent landing-place, and not far from it a stream of water, clear and limpid. As no natives appeared, the opinion was that that part of the island, at all events, was uninhabited, and this made us somewhat careless. All the casks being filled, the boats were sent back for a fresh supply, as we could not hope to find a better place for filling up with that important necessary. Pember, directing Tom Twigg to take charge of his boat, invited Dicky Esse and me to accompany him meantime on a stroll to see the island farther inland. He directed Toby Kiddle and Pat Brady to follow with a couple of muskets.

“Not that they will be wanted,” he observed; “but if we do fall in with any natives, it will make them treat us with respect.”

“If I were you, Pember, I would not go far from the bay,” observed Oldershaw, as he shoved off.

“You are always uttering warnings, old Careful,” muttered Pember; and, leading the way, he turned his back on the sea and proceeded inland.

The country was very beautiful. We soon came to a grove of cocoa-nuts, when Pember proposed that we should procure a supply. This, however, was more easily thought of than done. Pat Brady, who was the most active of the party, declared that he could manage it after the native fashion. He and Kiddle having placed the muskets against a tree, were considering the best way of mounting. We went first to one tree and then to another, to find one which seemed most easy to climb, with a satisfactory reward at the top of it for our trouble. Having made a band of sufficient strength with our handkerchiefs, Pat commenced his ascent. He had got some way up, Kiddle having helped him as far as he could reach, when suddenly a dozen dark-skinned savages sprang out from among the trees, and before we could draw our pistols they had brought us all to the ground. Forthwith they proceeded to bind our arms behind us. Pat, seeing there was no use going higher, came gliding down the tree, and was secured in the same manner. We endeavoured to make them understand that we had desired to do them no harm, and that if the cocoa-nuts were theirs, we should be happy to pay for them. Whether they understood us or not I cannot say, but without more ado, three of them attaching themselves to Pember, and a like number to each of the other men—one black fellow, however, only taking charge of Dicky and another of me—they dragged us off into the interior. In vain Pember struggled and expostulated. The fierce gleam of their dark eyes, and the keen blades of their glittering creeses which they flourished before us, showed that it would be dangerous to dispute the point with them. All we could do, therefore, was to move forward as they insisted, hoping that, when our absence was discovered, a strong party might be sent in pursuit of us, and that we might be recovered. We had not gone far when they were joined by another band of a similar number, and we could not help suspecting that they had been watching us all the time, but seeing so many armed men round the boats had not ventured to attack us. This made us still more regret our folly in having ventured alone into the country. On, on we went. We had great reason to fear that they had no intention of restoring us. At length they stopped at a village of bamboo huts, covered with cocoa-nut leaves, from which a number of women and children came forth to gaze at us. The children went shrieking away when they saw our white skins, while the women advanced cautiously and touched us, apparently to ascertain whether the red and white would come off.

“Faith, they take us for white niggers!” said Pat Brady, observing the look of astonishment, not unmixed with disgust, with which the women regarded us. “It’s to be hoped they won’t set us to work as we do the blacks, though, to be sure, it would be better than eating us, and I don’t like the looks of those fellows at all, at all.”

“Depend upon it, if they don’t eat us they will make us work, or why should they otherwise carry us off?” observed Kiddle. “These Malay fellows make slaves of all the people they can lay hands on. If it was not for that they would cut our throats.”

These remarks made Dicky Esse and me feel very uncomfortable, till Pember observed that perhaps they had carried us off in the hopes of obtaining a ransom. This idea kept up our spirits a little; but as they continued to drag us on further and further into the country, our hope on that score greatly decreased. At length we reached another village, in which was a large hut. Under the shade of a wide-spreading verandah in front of it an old chief was seated on cushions; a dozen half-naked savages with drawn swords standing behind him. He was dressed in a dark-coloured turban, with a shawl over his shoulders, a belt, in which were three or four formidable looking daggers with jewelled hilts, and a curved sword by his side. His dark countenance was unpleasantly savage and morose, and we felt that our lives would be of little value if they depended upon the amiability of his disposition. Our captors arranged us before him, and then appeared to be explaining how they had got possession of us. He smiled grimly at the narration. As Pember, Dicky Esse, and I were placed in advance, it was evident that our captors looked upon us as of more value than the men. This made us hope that they were entertaining some thoughts of allowing us to be ransomed, for in every other way the men were likely to prove more useful to them than we should.

After our captors had said all they had to say, the old chief made a few remarks in return. Before he had ceased speaking, several of his guards advanced towards us with their sharp-looking swords glittering in the sunbeams. It was a moment of intense anxiety. It seemed evident they intended to kill us. We could, however, neither fly nor defend ourselves.

“I say, Ben, have you said your prayers?” whispered Dicky to me. “If not, it is time to begin.”

Pember prepared to meet his fate with dogged resolution, his dark red countenance turning almost to an ashy hue. Kiddle and Brady, as I cast my eye on them, were evidently preparing to show fight.

“Knock the fellow next you down, Pat,” said Toby, “and get hold of his cutlash. I will treat mine the same, and if we cannot get away we will die game.”

Suddenly our expected executioners stopped, and stood waving their weapons at a short distance from our necks. The chief continued haranguing for some time, and when he ceased others stepped forth from the crowd and addressed him. Whether or not the chief had intended to kill us, we could not ascertain, but having kept us in most disagreeable suspense for half-an-hour or more, though it seemed several hours, the men with the swords faced about, and marched back to their former position. Our guards then carried us off to a hut at a little distance, into which we were all thrust, several men standing outside as a guard over us. After some time they brought us a mess of grain of some sort, well seasoned with pepper.

“I suppose they don’t intend to kill us, or they would not give us this,” observed Pat, taking a handful from the bowl, as, of course, we were left to feed ourselves, with our fingers. “Faith, it’s not so bad, after all.”

His example was followed by Dicky and me, and after a time Pember and Kiddle, unable any longer to restrain their appetites, also commenced eating. A supply of dry leaves and long grass, with several carpets, were brought in, and we were given to understand that they were to serve us as beds. This sort of treatment again raised our hopes that our captors might give us our liberty on receiving a ransom. Our difficulty would be to communicate with the ship.

“They cannot expect any very large sum for us,” observed Pember, who, deprived of any stimulant, was getting sadly out of spirits. “The Captain would not consent to pay much for me, I am afraid, and you two youngsters are worth little enough.”

“Speak for yourself,” answered Esse. “I rather think the Captain sets a higher estimation on me than you do.”

“Whether or not, for the honour of the flag they will not desert us,” I observed.

Pember on this gave a faint sickly laugh.

“Few inquiries would be made at the Admiralty as to what had become of an old mate and two youngsters. Expended on a watering party—killed by savages. Such would be our epitaph, and the matter would be settled to the satisfaction of all parties.”

No wonder, considering the circumstances, that our conversation did not take a more lively tone. Pat Brady, to be sure, did his best now and then to get up a laugh, but with very poor success.

“Keep silence, man!” exclaimed Pember, at last, in a surly tone. “You will be singing out in a different way to-morrow morning when they get the ovens ready.”

“Faith, I suppose they would be after making me into an Irish stew, or a dish of bubble and squeak!” exclaimed Pat, whose spirits were not to be quelled even with the anticipation of being turned into a feast for cannibals. I had an idea, however, that the people into whose hands we had fallen were not addicted to such practices, and was, therefore, not much influenced by the remarks which Pember occasionally made as to our probable fate. We were allowed to pass the night in quietness, and next morning another bowl of food was brought to us, with a basket of fruit of various sorts, very acceptable in that hot climate. We waited anxiously, expecting the arrival of a party from the frigate, either to rescue us by force, or to offer a ransom for our liberty; but no one appeared, nor did any of the natives, except the man who brought the food, come to the hut. Once, during an interval of silence, Esse declared he heard firing, but though we listened with all our might, the sounds reached no other ears. After a time, indeed, we all fancied we heard the boom of great guns, but even of that we could not be quite certain. Night again came round, and no one had come to look for us.

Chapter Seventeen.Several days passed by; we were still prisoners, and all hope of being rescued by our friends vanished. We came to the conclusion that they supposed we were killed, especially as Kiddle told us he had known of several boats’ crews having been cut off by the natives in those seas. What was to be our fate we could not tell; it was not likely to be a pleasant one, at all events. One day the whole village appeared to be in commotion; loud shouts were heard, and presently the door of our hull was thrown open, and several men entered, who dragged us out into the midst of a large crowd collected in the open space in front of it. Among them was the old chief whom we had seen on the day of our capture; a number of the men had hoes and other implements of agriculture. After a good deal of palaver, a hoe was put into Pember’s hands, and signs were made to him that he was to go to work with it. Toby and Pat had hoes given to them also. Esse fancied that we should be allowed to escape.“They think us too little to work, I hope,” he observed; but scarcely were the words out of his mouth than we both of us had implements put into our hands, and a pretty heavy whip being exhibited, signs were made to us that we should join our companions. We were forthwith marched off to a field where several natives were already at work. Apparently it belonged to the old chief, for he sat on a raised spot at the further end, under an awning, watching the proceedings with a complacent air which especially excited Pember’s wrath. When, also, at times the old mate relaxed in his labours, a dark-skinned fellow with a turban on his head, who seemed to act the part of an overseer, made him quickly resume them by an unmistakable threatening gesture. Thus we were kept at work till late in the evening, when we were all allowed to knock off and go back to our hut, where a larger amount of food than usual was awarded us. Next day we were called up at early dawn, and the hoes again were put into our hands. Sometimes the overseer, and sometimes one of the other men, came and showed us how to use them. All day long we were kept at work with the exception of a short time, when we were allowed to rest and take some food which was brought to us in the fields. We could no longer enjoy any hopes of regaining our liberty. It seemed as if we were destined to be turned into slaves, and to be worked as hard as any negroes in the West India plantations. At first Pember was very miserable, but abstinence from his usual liquor at length, I think, did him good, and he grew fatter and stronger than he had been since I first knew him. Still he persisted that he was dying, and should never again see the shores of England. The rest of us did our best to keep up our spirits, Esse and I told stories to each other, and formed plans for escaping. Some of them were very ingenious, and more or less hazardous; most, in reality, utterly impracticable, because, not knowing where we were, and having no means of getting away from the coast, even had we made our way to the shore, we should very soon have been brought back again. I might spin a long yarn about our captivity, but I do not think it would be interesting. Our days were monotonous enough, considering we were kept at the same work from sunrise to sunset. What a glorious feeling is hope! Hope kept us alive, for in spite of every difficulty we hoped, some time or other, to escape. At length one day as we were working, the old chief as usual looking on, a stranger arrived, and, going up to where he was seated, made a salaam before him. After a palaver of some minutes, which I could not help thinking had reference to us, the old chief called the overseer, and sent him down to where we were working. He went up to Pember, and made signs to him to go to the chief.“Sure that’s a message for us!” exclaimed Pat Brady. “Arrah, Ben, my boy, you will be after seeing your dear mother again; and the thought that she has been mourning for you has been throubling my heart more than the hard work and the dishonour of labouring for these blackamoors. Hurrah! Erin-go-bragh! I am right sure it’s news that’s coming to us.”By this time the overseer had spoken to Kiddle, and finally we were all conducted up to the chief. What was our astonishment to see the stranger produce a letter and hand it to Pember. It was written by the captain of a frigate, stating that having heard that some British seamen were detained by a petty chief, he had gone to the Rajah of the country, who had agreed that they should be liberated. The letter was addressed to any officer, or the principal person who was among them, advising them to follow the messenger, who could be trusted. The old chief seemed very indignant, but the envoy was evidently determined to carry out his instructions.“Sure he need not grumble,” observed Pat Brady, “the big thief has been getting a good many months’ work out of us, and sure that’s more than he had any right to. Still we will part friends with him, and show him that we bear him no ill-will.” On this, Pat, not waiting for the rest, went up and insisted on shaking the old chief cordially by the hand; the rest of us, with the exception of Pember, did the same. I need scarcely say that it was with no little amount of satisfaction that we began our march under the guidance of the Rajah’s envoy. I doubt if any of our friends would have known us, so changed had we become during our captivity. Rice and other grain diet may suit the natives of those regions, but it certainly does not agree with an Englishman’s constitution. We were all pale and thin, our hair long and shaggy, our clothes worn and tattered. We had darned them and mended them up as best we could with bits of native cloth, but in spite of our efforts we officers had a very unofficerlike appearance; while the two men might have served for street beggars, representing shipwrecked sailors, but were very unlike British men-of-war’s men. Eager as we were to get on, we made little progress across the rough country, and not till nearly the close of the second day did we obtain a glimpse of the bright blue sea. Our hearts bounded with joy when we saw it. Still more delightful was it to gaze down from a height which we reached on the well-squared yards and the white deck of a British frigate which lay at anchor in the harbour below us. Pat threw up his hat and shouted for joy. He was the only one of us who retained anything like a hat; only an Irishman, indeed, would have thought of preserving so battered a head-covering.“Sure it serves to keep my brains from broiling,” he observed, “and what after all is the use of a hat but for that, and just to toss up in the air when one’s heart’s in the mood to leap after it?” So near did the frigate appear that we felt inclined to hail her to send a boat on shore, though our voices would in reality have been lost in mid-air, long before the sound could reach her decks. We should have hurried down to the shore, had not our guide insisted on our proceeding first to the Rajah’s abode, where he might report our arrival in safety and claim a reward for himself, as well as the better to enable the Rajah to put in his own claims for a recompense. We were still standing in the presence of the great man, when a lieutenant and a couple of midshipmen with about twenty armed seamen made their appearance in the courtyard. Dicky Esse and I no sooner caught sight of them than, unable to restrain our eagerness, we rushed forward intending to shake hands with them.“Hillo, what are these curious little imps about?” exclaimed one of the midshipmen, as we were running towards them.“Imp?” exclaimed Dicky. “You would look like an imp if you had been made to hoe in the fields all day long with the sun right overhead for the best part of half-a-year. I am an officer like yourself, and will not stand an insult, that I can tell you!” This reply was received with a burst of laughter from the two midshipmen; but the lieutenant, guessing who we were, received us both in a very kind way, and Pember with Kiddle and Pat coming up, he seemed highly pleased to find that we were the prisoners he had been sent to liberate. The frigate, he told us, was the “Resolution,” Captain Pemberton, who, having heard through some of the natives that some English seamen were in captivity, had taken steps to obtain our release.“We told the Rajah that if any of you were injured, or if his people refused to restore you, we would blow his town about his ears—a far more effectual way of dealing with these gentry than mild expostulations or gentle threats. And now,” he added, “if there are no more of you we will return on board.” In a short time we were standing on the deck of the frigate. Her captain received us very kindly, and soon afterwards we made sail. The frigate being rather short of officers, we were ordered to do duty till we could fall in with our own ship. Pember grumbled somewhat, declaring that he ought to be allowed to rest after the hardships he had gone through. People seldom know what is best for them, nor did he, as will be shown in the sequel. Both Dicky Esse and I were placed in the same watch, as were our two followers. The “Resolution” had not fallen in with our frigate, and therefore we could gain no tidings of any of our friends, and as she, it was supposed, had sailed for Canton, we might not fall in with her for some time. We cruised round and about the shores of the numberless islands of those seas, sometimes taking a prize, and occasionally attacking a fort or injuring and destroying the property of our enemies whenever we could meet with it. One night, while I was on watch, I found Kiddle near me. Though he did not hesitate to speak to me as of yore, yet he never seemed to forget that I was now on the quarter-deck.“Do you know, Mr Burton,” he observed, “that I have found an old acquaintance on board? He was pilot in the ‘Boreas,’ and he is doing the same sort of work here. I never quite liked the man, though he is a fair spoken enough sort of gentleman.”“What! Is that Mr Noalles?” I asked.“The same!” and Toby then gave me the account which I have before noted of that person.“That is strange!” I said. “I really fancied I had seen him before. Directly I came on board it struck me that I knew the man, and yet of course I cannot recollect him after so many years.” He was a dark, large-whiskered man, with a far from pleasant expression of countenance. The ship had been on the station some time, and rather worse for wear and tear. We had not been on board long, when one night as I was in my hammock I felt it jerk in a peculiar manner, and was almost sent out of it. I was quickly roused by a combination of all conceivable sounds:—the howling of the wind, the roar of the seas, which seemed to be dashing over us. The rattling of ropes and blocks, the creaking of bulkheads, the voices of the men shouting to each other and asking what had happened, were almost deafening, even to ears accustomed to such noises.“We are all going to be drowned!” I heard Dicky Esse, whose hammock slung next to mine, sing out. “Never mind, Dicky,” I answered, “we will have a struggle for life at all events, and may be, as the savages did not eat us, the sea will not swallow us up.”Finding everybody was turning out, I huddled on my clothes as best I could, and with the rest found my way on deck, though I quickly wished myself below again, as it was no easy matter to keep my footing when I was there, and preserve myself from slipping into the sea, which was dashing wildly over our bulwarks. The ship was on her beam-ends. By the light of the vivid flashes of lightning which continued incessantly darting here and there round us, I saw the Captain half-dressed, with his garments under one of his arms, shouting out his orders, which the lieutenants, much in the same state as to costume, were endeavouring to get executed, their voices, however, being drowned in the tempest. For some minutes, indeed, even the best seamen could scarcely do anything but hold on for their lives. One thing appeared certain: either the masts must be cut away, or the guns hove overboard. It seemed impossible, if this could not be done, that the ship would continue above water. Suddenly with a violent jerk up she rose again on an even keel with her topmasts carried away, and the rigging beating with fearful force about our heads.“Clear away the wreck!” shouted the Captain. Such was now the no easy task to be performed. The officers, however, with axes in their hands, leading the way, sprang aloft, followed by the topmen. Blocks and spars came rattling down on deck to the no small risk of those below. At length the shattered spars having been cleared away, head sail was got on the ship, and off she ran before the hurricane, the master having ascertained that we had a clear sea before us. When morning dawned, the frigate, which had looked so trim at sunset, presented a sadly battered appearance, her topmasts gone, the deck lumbered with the wreck, two of the boats carried away, a part of the lee-bulwarks stove in. The carpenter too, after going below with his mates, returned on deck and reported that the ship was making water very fast. “We must ease her, sir,” I heard him say, “or I cannot answer for her weathering the gale.” The Captain took a turn or two along the quarter-deck, his countenance showing the anxiety he felt.“It must be done,” I heard him say. “Send Mr Block aft.” He was the gunner. “We must heave some of our upper-deck guns overboard, Mr Block.” The gunner seemed inclined to plead for them.“It must be done,” said the Captain. And now the crew, who would have sprung joyfully to the guns to man them against an enemy, began with unwilling hands to cast the tackles loose in order to launch them into the ocean. Watching the roll of the ship, first one gun was sent through the port into the deep—another and another followed.“By my faith it’s like pulling out the old girl’s teeth, and giving her no chance of biting,” observed Pat Brady, who was standing near me.“We will keep a few of her grinders in though, Pat,” observed Kiddle: “we must handle them the smarter if we come alongside an enemy, to make amends for those we have lost.”The heavy weight on her upper-deck being thus got rid of, the frigate laboured less, and the pumps being kept going, the water no longer continued to gain upon us. However, it was necessary to work the chain pumps night and day to keep the water under. At length we arrived at Amboyna, where we remained some time repairing damages and refitting the frigate as far as we were able.“I wish we were aboard our own ship again,” said Kiddle to me one day, “for I don’t know how it is, but the crew of this ship declare that she is doomed to be unlucky. I don’t know how many men they have not lost. They have scarcely taken a prize, and they are always getting into misfortune. It’s not the fault of the Captain, for he is as good a seaman as ever stepped, and the officers are all very well in their way, and so there’s no doubt it’s the ship’s fault. Some of the people, to be sure, don’t like Mr Noalles, the pilot. They don’t know who he is or where he came from, though that to my mind has nothing to do with it, for it’s not likely he would be aboard here if he was not known to be a right sort of person.”At length we once more sailed for a place called Booroo, where we got a supply of wood and water, as well as refreshments and stock, and then sailed for the Straits of Banca. As we were standing along the coast, when daylight broke one morning, we saw towards the land a number of vessels, which were pronounced to be pirate prows. In their midst was a large brig, which they had apparently captured. We were standing towards them when the land-breeze died away, and we lay becalmed, unable to get nearer. On this the boats were ordered out, and two of the lieutenants, the master, and a couple of mates took the command. Dicky Esse and I accompanied the Second-Lieutenant. Our orders were to board the prows, and if they offered any resistance, to destroy them. The water was smooth and beautifully blue, while the rising sun tipped the topmost heights of the lofty hills, which rose, as it were, out of the ocean, feathered almost from their summits to the water’s edge with graceful trees. There lay the brig, while the prows were clustered like so many beasts of prey around their quarry. The pirates seemed in no way alarmed at our approach. Our leader, however, had made up his mind, in spite of their numbers to board the brig, and then, should the prows interfere, to attack them. As soon as this resolution was come to, we dashed forward to get on board her without delay. The pirates seemed scarcely aware of our intention, and before any of the prows had lifted an anchor we were on board. Some forty or fifty dark-skinned, villainous-looking fellows had possession of the brig, but they were probably unable to use the big guns, and though they made some little resistance, we soon drove them forward, a considerable number being cut down, the rest jumping overboard, and attempting to swim towards the prows, which, instantly getting out their sweeps, began to approach us.

Several days passed by; we were still prisoners, and all hope of being rescued by our friends vanished. We came to the conclusion that they supposed we were killed, especially as Kiddle told us he had known of several boats’ crews having been cut off by the natives in those seas. What was to be our fate we could not tell; it was not likely to be a pleasant one, at all events. One day the whole village appeared to be in commotion; loud shouts were heard, and presently the door of our hull was thrown open, and several men entered, who dragged us out into the midst of a large crowd collected in the open space in front of it. Among them was the old chief whom we had seen on the day of our capture; a number of the men had hoes and other implements of agriculture. After a good deal of palaver, a hoe was put into Pember’s hands, and signs were made to him that he was to go to work with it. Toby and Pat had hoes given to them also. Esse fancied that we should be allowed to escape.

“They think us too little to work, I hope,” he observed; but scarcely were the words out of his mouth than we both of us had implements put into our hands, and a pretty heavy whip being exhibited, signs were made to us that we should join our companions. We were forthwith marched off to a field where several natives were already at work. Apparently it belonged to the old chief, for he sat on a raised spot at the further end, under an awning, watching the proceedings with a complacent air which especially excited Pember’s wrath. When, also, at times the old mate relaxed in his labours, a dark-skinned fellow with a turban on his head, who seemed to act the part of an overseer, made him quickly resume them by an unmistakable threatening gesture. Thus we were kept at work till late in the evening, when we were all allowed to knock off and go back to our hut, where a larger amount of food than usual was awarded us. Next day we were called up at early dawn, and the hoes again were put into our hands. Sometimes the overseer, and sometimes one of the other men, came and showed us how to use them. All day long we were kept at work with the exception of a short time, when we were allowed to rest and take some food which was brought to us in the fields. We could no longer enjoy any hopes of regaining our liberty. It seemed as if we were destined to be turned into slaves, and to be worked as hard as any negroes in the West India plantations. At first Pember was very miserable, but abstinence from his usual liquor at length, I think, did him good, and he grew fatter and stronger than he had been since I first knew him. Still he persisted that he was dying, and should never again see the shores of England. The rest of us did our best to keep up our spirits, Esse and I told stories to each other, and formed plans for escaping. Some of them were very ingenious, and more or less hazardous; most, in reality, utterly impracticable, because, not knowing where we were, and having no means of getting away from the coast, even had we made our way to the shore, we should very soon have been brought back again. I might spin a long yarn about our captivity, but I do not think it would be interesting. Our days were monotonous enough, considering we were kept at the same work from sunrise to sunset. What a glorious feeling is hope! Hope kept us alive, for in spite of every difficulty we hoped, some time or other, to escape. At length one day as we were working, the old chief as usual looking on, a stranger arrived, and, going up to where he was seated, made a salaam before him. After a palaver of some minutes, which I could not help thinking had reference to us, the old chief called the overseer, and sent him down to where we were working. He went up to Pember, and made signs to him to go to the chief.

“Sure that’s a message for us!” exclaimed Pat Brady. “Arrah, Ben, my boy, you will be after seeing your dear mother again; and the thought that she has been mourning for you has been throubling my heart more than the hard work and the dishonour of labouring for these blackamoors. Hurrah! Erin-go-bragh! I am right sure it’s news that’s coming to us.”

By this time the overseer had spoken to Kiddle, and finally we were all conducted up to the chief. What was our astonishment to see the stranger produce a letter and hand it to Pember. It was written by the captain of a frigate, stating that having heard that some British seamen were detained by a petty chief, he had gone to the Rajah of the country, who had agreed that they should be liberated. The letter was addressed to any officer, or the principal person who was among them, advising them to follow the messenger, who could be trusted. The old chief seemed very indignant, but the envoy was evidently determined to carry out his instructions.

“Sure he need not grumble,” observed Pat Brady, “the big thief has been getting a good many months’ work out of us, and sure that’s more than he had any right to. Still we will part friends with him, and show him that we bear him no ill-will.” On this, Pat, not waiting for the rest, went up and insisted on shaking the old chief cordially by the hand; the rest of us, with the exception of Pember, did the same. I need scarcely say that it was with no little amount of satisfaction that we began our march under the guidance of the Rajah’s envoy. I doubt if any of our friends would have known us, so changed had we become during our captivity. Rice and other grain diet may suit the natives of those regions, but it certainly does not agree with an Englishman’s constitution. We were all pale and thin, our hair long and shaggy, our clothes worn and tattered. We had darned them and mended them up as best we could with bits of native cloth, but in spite of our efforts we officers had a very unofficerlike appearance; while the two men might have served for street beggars, representing shipwrecked sailors, but were very unlike British men-of-war’s men. Eager as we were to get on, we made little progress across the rough country, and not till nearly the close of the second day did we obtain a glimpse of the bright blue sea. Our hearts bounded with joy when we saw it. Still more delightful was it to gaze down from a height which we reached on the well-squared yards and the white deck of a British frigate which lay at anchor in the harbour below us. Pat threw up his hat and shouted for joy. He was the only one of us who retained anything like a hat; only an Irishman, indeed, would have thought of preserving so battered a head-covering.

“Sure it serves to keep my brains from broiling,” he observed, “and what after all is the use of a hat but for that, and just to toss up in the air when one’s heart’s in the mood to leap after it?” So near did the frigate appear that we felt inclined to hail her to send a boat on shore, though our voices would in reality have been lost in mid-air, long before the sound could reach her decks. We should have hurried down to the shore, had not our guide insisted on our proceeding first to the Rajah’s abode, where he might report our arrival in safety and claim a reward for himself, as well as the better to enable the Rajah to put in his own claims for a recompense. We were still standing in the presence of the great man, when a lieutenant and a couple of midshipmen with about twenty armed seamen made their appearance in the courtyard. Dicky Esse and I no sooner caught sight of them than, unable to restrain our eagerness, we rushed forward intending to shake hands with them.

“Hillo, what are these curious little imps about?” exclaimed one of the midshipmen, as we were running towards them.

“Imp?” exclaimed Dicky. “You would look like an imp if you had been made to hoe in the fields all day long with the sun right overhead for the best part of half-a-year. I am an officer like yourself, and will not stand an insult, that I can tell you!” This reply was received with a burst of laughter from the two midshipmen; but the lieutenant, guessing who we were, received us both in a very kind way, and Pember with Kiddle and Pat coming up, he seemed highly pleased to find that we were the prisoners he had been sent to liberate. The frigate, he told us, was the “Resolution,” Captain Pemberton, who, having heard through some of the natives that some English seamen were in captivity, had taken steps to obtain our release.

“We told the Rajah that if any of you were injured, or if his people refused to restore you, we would blow his town about his ears—a far more effectual way of dealing with these gentry than mild expostulations or gentle threats. And now,” he added, “if there are no more of you we will return on board.” In a short time we were standing on the deck of the frigate. Her captain received us very kindly, and soon afterwards we made sail. The frigate being rather short of officers, we were ordered to do duty till we could fall in with our own ship. Pember grumbled somewhat, declaring that he ought to be allowed to rest after the hardships he had gone through. People seldom know what is best for them, nor did he, as will be shown in the sequel. Both Dicky Esse and I were placed in the same watch, as were our two followers. The “Resolution” had not fallen in with our frigate, and therefore we could gain no tidings of any of our friends, and as she, it was supposed, had sailed for Canton, we might not fall in with her for some time. We cruised round and about the shores of the numberless islands of those seas, sometimes taking a prize, and occasionally attacking a fort or injuring and destroying the property of our enemies whenever we could meet with it. One night, while I was on watch, I found Kiddle near me. Though he did not hesitate to speak to me as of yore, yet he never seemed to forget that I was now on the quarter-deck.

“Do you know, Mr Burton,” he observed, “that I have found an old acquaintance on board? He was pilot in the ‘Boreas,’ and he is doing the same sort of work here. I never quite liked the man, though he is a fair spoken enough sort of gentleman.”

“What! Is that Mr Noalles?” I asked.

“The same!” and Toby then gave me the account which I have before noted of that person.

“That is strange!” I said. “I really fancied I had seen him before. Directly I came on board it struck me that I knew the man, and yet of course I cannot recollect him after so many years.” He was a dark, large-whiskered man, with a far from pleasant expression of countenance. The ship had been on the station some time, and rather worse for wear and tear. We had not been on board long, when one night as I was in my hammock I felt it jerk in a peculiar manner, and was almost sent out of it. I was quickly roused by a combination of all conceivable sounds:—the howling of the wind, the roar of the seas, which seemed to be dashing over us. The rattling of ropes and blocks, the creaking of bulkheads, the voices of the men shouting to each other and asking what had happened, were almost deafening, even to ears accustomed to such noises.

“We are all going to be drowned!” I heard Dicky Esse, whose hammock slung next to mine, sing out. “Never mind, Dicky,” I answered, “we will have a struggle for life at all events, and may be, as the savages did not eat us, the sea will not swallow us up.”

Finding everybody was turning out, I huddled on my clothes as best I could, and with the rest found my way on deck, though I quickly wished myself below again, as it was no easy matter to keep my footing when I was there, and preserve myself from slipping into the sea, which was dashing wildly over our bulwarks. The ship was on her beam-ends. By the light of the vivid flashes of lightning which continued incessantly darting here and there round us, I saw the Captain half-dressed, with his garments under one of his arms, shouting out his orders, which the lieutenants, much in the same state as to costume, were endeavouring to get executed, their voices, however, being drowned in the tempest. For some minutes, indeed, even the best seamen could scarcely do anything but hold on for their lives. One thing appeared certain: either the masts must be cut away, or the guns hove overboard. It seemed impossible, if this could not be done, that the ship would continue above water. Suddenly with a violent jerk up she rose again on an even keel with her topmasts carried away, and the rigging beating with fearful force about our heads.

“Clear away the wreck!” shouted the Captain. Such was now the no easy task to be performed. The officers, however, with axes in their hands, leading the way, sprang aloft, followed by the topmen. Blocks and spars came rattling down on deck to the no small risk of those below. At length the shattered spars having been cleared away, head sail was got on the ship, and off she ran before the hurricane, the master having ascertained that we had a clear sea before us. When morning dawned, the frigate, which had looked so trim at sunset, presented a sadly battered appearance, her topmasts gone, the deck lumbered with the wreck, two of the boats carried away, a part of the lee-bulwarks stove in. The carpenter too, after going below with his mates, returned on deck and reported that the ship was making water very fast. “We must ease her, sir,” I heard him say, “or I cannot answer for her weathering the gale.” The Captain took a turn or two along the quarter-deck, his countenance showing the anxiety he felt.

“It must be done,” I heard him say. “Send Mr Block aft.” He was the gunner. “We must heave some of our upper-deck guns overboard, Mr Block.” The gunner seemed inclined to plead for them.

“It must be done,” said the Captain. And now the crew, who would have sprung joyfully to the guns to man them against an enemy, began with unwilling hands to cast the tackles loose in order to launch them into the ocean. Watching the roll of the ship, first one gun was sent through the port into the deep—another and another followed.

“By my faith it’s like pulling out the old girl’s teeth, and giving her no chance of biting,” observed Pat Brady, who was standing near me.

“We will keep a few of her grinders in though, Pat,” observed Kiddle: “we must handle them the smarter if we come alongside an enemy, to make amends for those we have lost.”

The heavy weight on her upper-deck being thus got rid of, the frigate laboured less, and the pumps being kept going, the water no longer continued to gain upon us. However, it was necessary to work the chain pumps night and day to keep the water under. At length we arrived at Amboyna, where we remained some time repairing damages and refitting the frigate as far as we were able.

“I wish we were aboard our own ship again,” said Kiddle to me one day, “for I don’t know how it is, but the crew of this ship declare that she is doomed to be unlucky. I don’t know how many men they have not lost. They have scarcely taken a prize, and they are always getting into misfortune. It’s not the fault of the Captain, for he is as good a seaman as ever stepped, and the officers are all very well in their way, and so there’s no doubt it’s the ship’s fault. Some of the people, to be sure, don’t like Mr Noalles, the pilot. They don’t know who he is or where he came from, though that to my mind has nothing to do with it, for it’s not likely he would be aboard here if he was not known to be a right sort of person.”

At length we once more sailed for a place called Booroo, where we got a supply of wood and water, as well as refreshments and stock, and then sailed for the Straits of Banca. As we were standing along the coast, when daylight broke one morning, we saw towards the land a number of vessels, which were pronounced to be pirate prows. In their midst was a large brig, which they had apparently captured. We were standing towards them when the land-breeze died away, and we lay becalmed, unable to get nearer. On this the boats were ordered out, and two of the lieutenants, the master, and a couple of mates took the command. Dicky Esse and I accompanied the Second-Lieutenant. Our orders were to board the prows, and if they offered any resistance, to destroy them. The water was smooth and beautifully blue, while the rising sun tipped the topmost heights of the lofty hills, which rose, as it were, out of the ocean, feathered almost from their summits to the water’s edge with graceful trees. There lay the brig, while the prows were clustered like so many beasts of prey around their quarry. The pirates seemed in no way alarmed at our approach. Our leader, however, had made up his mind, in spite of their numbers to board the brig, and then, should the prows interfere, to attack them. As soon as this resolution was come to, we dashed forward to get on board her without delay. The pirates seemed scarcely aware of our intention, and before any of the prows had lifted an anchor we were on board. Some forty or fifty dark-skinned, villainous-looking fellows had possession of the brig, but they were probably unable to use the big guns, and though they made some little resistance, we soon drove them forward, a considerable number being cut down, the rest jumping overboard, and attempting to swim towards the prows, which, instantly getting out their sweeps, began to approach us.

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