When Singapore was well out of sight Crushe mustered the deserters, kept until that time below in irons. Thirty-five men and one boy answered to their names, and were paraded before him. Among them were many of his pets, who, until their attempt at desertion, had been considered reliable fellows. These he surveyed with unmitigated disgust, as much as to say, "You brutes, after I have loaded you with favours, you turn upon me and desert, like the rest of them." The boy was no other than "the son of Bill Jordun," who, in spite of the guardianship of Old Jemmy, had contrived to reach the shore in an empty water-tank, there to be duly collared and returned to the kind care of the humane lieutenant. Crushe determined to flog the child, as an example to the other boys: consequently, when the deserters were mustered, he singled out the lad, and bullied him in a most unmerciful manner.
"What is that little beast's name?" he demanded of the ship's corporal.
"Bill Jordun, sir," replied the man, touching his cap several times, to show his profound humility.
"Come here, you little hound. How dare you desert? I'll have you flogged over the breech of a gun, you son of a dog! Do you hear me—curse you?" exclaimed the first lieutenant.
"I can hear you, sir."
"Then why don't you answer me, you vermin?"
The boy bit his lips, and swallowed the insult; determined not to irritate his tyrant by replying; but upon glancing up, and seeing the sneering look of Crushe directed towards him, as if he were dirt beneath his feet, he fearlessly observed,
"I didn't answer, as you didn't give me a chance—'sides, I don't want to be killed, like Dunstable was. I ain't afraid of you, though, although I knows my life ain't worth much in your eyes."
"Stop! you mutinous little blackguard, you shall get your deserts. I wish to Heaven I could give you four dozen. Ship's corporal, take the little beast down below."
The boy, now driven to desperation, replied in a mocking way,
"Yes! take him below, take him down below—that's what the devil will do to you some day—see if he don't."
Shever, upon hearing this unwarrantable abuse of his superior, stepped before the ship's corporal, saying, "Allow me to handle this brute," seized the undaunted infant by the throat, and lifting him off the deck, carried the precocious child below, where Master William used anything but proper language. The boy had often heard the men indulge in profanity when being put in confinement, so he considered it the correct thing to do; and it must have been very horrible, as, upon his return to the quarter-deck, the boatswain reported that "he had to shut his ears, it was so awful."
While the lad was being attended to, Crushe stood beside the capstan, and amused himself by taunting the prisoners, and on the slightest word from them would exclaim, "Silence, you brutes! by Jupiter I'll make some of you hold your tongues with a cat, if you don't shut up your jaw. You imagined you could give me the slip, did you? bless you. I'm glad some of you have tried it on; particularly you, Mr. Byrne.You're fond of praying, now pray for a miracle, as you'll get four dozen crosses on your back in spite of your faith. You're all right this time, and the devil himself won't save you. I'm only sorry I can't flog the lot of you."
When Crushe had exhausted his spleen upon the deserters as a body, he directed Cravan to have them brought singly before him. Some, like the boy Jordun, were mutinous; these he determined should be flogged: while others held their peace, and escaped with various light punishments, from "one month's pay or grog stopped," to "black list for a week," or "watered grog for an unlimited period."
"In the old times we could have flogged all of the brutes," he observed to Cravan, "but it would not do to try it on now; besides, the old boy would be afraid to sign the warrants."
"You might flog them into mutiny," replied Nosey. "That fellow Byrne muttered something about better strike for their rights like men, than be treated like dogs."
"Did he?" exclaimed Crushe.
"Yes, and two or three of those you have set down for flogging seemed half inclined to be mutinous; besides, did you not hear that little whelp Jordun allude to Dunstable, just as if you murdered him?"
"That was a joke. I murder him, ha, ha!" laughed Crushe.
"Ha, ha!" echoed Cravan, but the merriment on both sides, was forced. They remembered how the poor idiot looked when he lay dead in the sick-bay, and the first lieutenant felt the words, "murdered him," stir even his dull conscience.
Captain Puffeigh was brought on deck during the day, and the seven men were duly reported to him. Without the slightest inquiry, upon the word of his first lieutenant, he sentenced two to receive four, and five of them three, dozen lashes upon their bare backs. Small boy Jordun was then paraded, and when he found all chance gone of obtaining justice from the gallant captain, he became very insolent; observing that the skipper would get a thundering good pounding if ever he showed his strawberry nose in Portsea, and that Crushe had better look out for hisself, whenhisfather heeredhehad been flaked.
"The depravity of the little fiend! To speak to me in that audacious manner upon my own quarter-deck! He ought to be keelhauled. Don't you think so, Crushe?"
Of course the first lieutenant agreed with his commander.
Keelhauling, gentle reader, was a frightful torture invented in a brutal age, and it is still sighed after by creatures like Puffeigh and Crushe. The punishment consisted in slinging a man in a peculiar manner, by a rope suspended from one yard arm, and running under the ship up to the other yard. Thus the victim was drawn down into the water, under the ship (which sometimes lacerated him in a frightful manner), and then run up to the yard arm on the other side. If he survived this he was lucky, as generally the operation finished the victim. Puffeigh felt sorry that he could not break the insolent boy's spirit by these gentle means, as the child's tender frame was admirably adapted to bear such a punishment.
The commander shook his elegant signature upon the foot of each "warrant for punishment." He was not a learned judge, nor had he "patiently and carefully gone into each case," according to admiralty orders.
Upon the morning after Puffeigh signed the warrants, the Stingers were all turned out at daylight. It was lovely weather, and as the ship steamed up the China sea everything around her looked calm and peaceful, while on board all was terror, discontent, and unhappiness.
William Jordun, boy of the second class, was the first victim: and as small lads are tied over the breech of a gun, and flogged on a corresponding portion of their ownanatomy, there was no grating to rig; consequently the preliminaries were of a primitive and unostentatious kind; the only persons to be present being Crushe, the assistant surgeon, and the ship's boys. Master William knew that in a manner the eyes of the fleet were upon him, so he determined to take his punishment like a stoic. The worthy and innocent lads who swarmed round the gun across which he was secured did all in their power to keep up his spirits, and until the dreaded first lieutenant made his appearance a casual observer might have imagined the boys were mustered to assist at some pleasing kind of ceremony.
"Don't you holler, young Bill, and I'll give you a plug of genewine Wirginny," observed one small specimen.
"I've got a tot of grog stowed away for you, chummy, if you gives plenty ov lip," consolingly remarked another.
"The way that ere lad do keep up 'is pluck, agin all odds!" mumbled Old Jemmy, who was surveying the infants much as a dog fancier might a lot of bull pups.
"You shall have that 'ere pair ov trousers wot's too small for me if you jaw all the time, and don't sing out," put in a long specimen, who was on the look-out for the appearance of Crushe and the assistant surgeon up the after-companion. At last he cried, "Here's the sangvenary tyrunt; hold yer jaw, all ov yer."
As the boy was lashed to the foremost starboard gun, the lieutenant and doctor had to walk almost the vessel's length; so by the time they reached the group the lads were as quiet as mice, and looking at the prisoner in a virtuously superior manner.
"All the boys here, ship's corporal?"
"Yes, sir."
Upon this Crushe read the warrant, and without more ceremony ordered the boatswain's mate to "do his duty."
When the corporal removed the frock which hitherto had covered the boy's person, the lad blushed, and shut his eyes for a moment, his position being a most ignominious one. Price advanced cat in hand, and was about to administer the first cut; but seeing the boy's fair skin with its faint blue veins, he threw down the cat, and folding his arms, looked at his superiors like one bewildered.
The first lieutenant stared at the boatswain's mate for a moment, then demanded in a severe tone if he had been drinking; adding, if he did not wish to be disrated, he had better go on with the flogging, and mind he did his duty effectually.
Price looked at Crushe, then at the boy, and at length murmured "Can't do it, sir—darn me if I can—I'd rather be flogged myself," saying which he picked up the cat, and threw it overboard.
"Go aft and stand between two guns, you miserable old fool; I'll disrate you for that, you drivelling idiot," bellowed the first lieutenant.
"Boatswain, do your duty."
"Yes, boatswain, do your duty," mimicked the impudent little victim; "do your duty, it's apleasureto you, ain't it?"
Mr. Shever flogged boy Jordun in a highly expert and savage manner, but the lad being wonderfully tough-skinned, he merely succeeded in inducing him to use some very powerful language for such a small child. Not a groan or tear, but with true nautical freedom, did he bless Crushe and the rest of his enemies, asserting as the tails curled round his defenceless body that he should "live to see the lot of 'em swing for murder afore he died, so help his never, he would."
When a man or boy is actually undergoing punishment he may give vent to his feelings in any way he pleases—say his prayers, or worse—generally worse, we are sorry to state; and Master William Jordun, boy of the second class, feeling he wasbeing looked upon as a sort of martyr by his fellows, endured the pain, and slanged his superiors like a grown up sailor. It was a fitting prologue to the performance which followed.
Having received his two dozen lashes, he was cast off considerably worse in body and mind, and sent aft to remain in the sentry's charge until sunset. We know he was a foul-mouthed little monkey, but what made him so? The example of his superiors; and it is not surprising he was bad, considering the beautiful and edifying language he constantly heard on the part of Crushe, Shever, and others.
By the time the foregoing was completed Puffeigh had made his appearance with the officers and engineers upon the quarter-deck, where the grating was already rigged for punishment. The same performance was gone through as upon the occasion of Clare's sentence being carried out, with this exception, the boys mingled with the men, and as the first victim was "seized up," six others, among whom was Byrne, were brought forward "to be improved" until their turns came. Three of them bore their punishment without a word, and were sent below to have their backs dressed by the surgeon. One man cried and roared like a child under chastisement. Another fainted, and was flogged during the time he was insensible (some of the crew observed thathetook it "like a lamb"), while the other two victims, driven almost out of their senses, cursed and swore in a fearful manner, Byrne vowing he would murder Puffeigh, Crushe, or Shever. "I'll have revenge on one of you devils," he yelled, as the last stroke of the lashes scored his back like so many knives.
"Iron him; see he doesn't do any damage," quavered Puffeigh, when he saw they were casting the man off. "Put him below under a sentry's charge until we arrive at Hong-Kong. I'll try you by court-martial for that threat, you brute."
The man showed fight, breaking from his keepers, and endeavouring to get at Puffeigh, who thereupon beat a retreat to his cabin, saying he was tired. After a desperate struggle the sailor was secured, gagged, double-ironed, and placed below under charge of a sentry, who was instructed to "keep his eye on him, and not to allow any one to speak to him." For three days the prisoner remained perfectly quiet; upon the fourth, thinking the threats he had made were mere empty talk, he was released by order of the commander, Crushe having requested the same might be done, as he wanted the man's services.
It is customary when a ship is in the Chinese sea to keep a number of loaded arms in a rack under the charge of a sentry, as in case of falling in with a pirate they may be required at a moment's notice. Byrne had been freed from confinement, and was standing by the arm rack, waiting until the ship's corporal had replaced his irons below, after which the prisoner was to be taken before the first lieutenant, and officially dismissed to duty. The sentry had gone on deck to report the time, and no one was in the steerage. At this juncture Crushe called down the hatchway directing (as he thought) the ship's corporal to "make haste and bring up the prisoner." At the sound of the hated officer's voice, Byrne darted to the arm rack, seized a loaded musket, rushed up the main hatchway, and seeing an officer standing near, fired. The ball entered the back of his victim, who immediately fell upon the quarter-deck as if shot dead. The assassin threw down his weapon and gave himself up to the sergeant of marines, who was the nearest man to him at the time, exclaiming as he did so, "There! I hope the brute is dead, then he'll never kill any more sailors."
Twenty men sprang forward to raise the body from the deck, all horror-stricken at the dreadful tragedy which had been enacted before them. Few knew who it was that had been shot; and as nearly all had imagined it to be Crushe, when they found that the inanimate body was that of Lieutenant Ford, their excitement knew nobounds. It was with difficulty the men could be kept from lynching the prisoner, although they knew full well that he had killed the good young officer by mistake, instead of shooting one of their tyrants.
When the assassin found who it was he had fired at, he became almost insane, crying out to his guards to shoot him, and endeavouring to beat out his brains upon the deck.
"O God!" he shrieked, "I've killed the best officer in the fleet. I'd have died for him; it cannot be so, you lie, you soger, and do it to frighten me. It was Crushe, the devil, that I killed, not Lieutenant Ford. Shipmate, say it wasn'thimnow, for Heaven's sake."
"Sentry," roared the first lieutenant, "gag that brute!"
The surgeon was called, and by his direction the body was taken below and laid upon a cot in the sick-bay, Tom Clare, the gentlest of nurses, being directed to "attend to the instructions of the surgeon, and remain with the lieutenant until further orders." After a time Ford opened his eyes and recognized those about him. Having made a superficial examination of his wound, the doctor placed him in an easy position, directing Clare not to let him excite himself by talking, and absolutely forbidding Tom to allow any one to see him; then walking aft to the captain's cabin he reported his opinion to Puffeigh, viz.: that Lieutenant Ford was severely wounded, and he did not think it possible he could survive more than a few hours. The captain heard the report without observation, and when the surgeon had retired he sent for Crushe, telling him what the doctor had said. As he was speaking Clare entered the cabin, and hurriedly informed them that Lieutenant Ford wished to see them at once, and the doctor said they'd better come.
Puffeigh turned pale, and muttered something about not being well himself; but finding the first lieutenant did not help him out, he mustered courage enough to face the dying man, taking Crushe with him, in order that the latter might not escape the scene.
Ford had asked how he was hurt, and if he could survive. These questions had been replied to by the doctor, who informed him that he had been accidentally shot by one of the men, and that probably he might not live long. The wounded officer heard this announcement without a shudder, and presently inquired, "Who was it that shot me?" As the surgeon did not reply, he turned his brilliant eyes full upon the face of Clare, who being thus mutely appealed to, observed,
"Byrne, sir, but he didn't know it was you."
"I forgive him, with all my heart," said Ford. "Send for Captain Puffeigh."
Knowing the poor fellow had but a short time to live, the good surgeon sent Tom Clare to the commander, as we have just related.
Upon the captain's entering the sick-bay, Ford motioned Clare to give him some water. Seeing this, the doctor administered a stimulant, as he knew the wounded officer very much desired to make a communication before he died.
"Send that sailor away," whispered Puffeigh.
"He cannot leave his charge," quietly observed the surgeon, who now lifted up his finger, to enjoin silence.
Looking towards the captain, Ford spoke as follows:—"Captain Puffeigh—the poor fellow—who did this—deserves—your pity. I forgive—him—and Crushe—knowing it was you he in—tended—to kill, I shall be happy to die—forYOU—if I can—be assured you will—cease—to tyrannize—over—the crew—Don't flog—any—more. Promise me—to save Byrne's—life."
"I'll do all I can to save him, Ford—but you are not dying—" quavered Puffeigh.
Ford tried to stretch forth his hand, to grasp that of his senior, but his strength failed him, and with a faint smile he exclaimed, "God bless—you—for the prom—" but was prevented finishing the sentence by the blood rising in his throat.
Puffeigh was so frightened that he had to be supported by Crushe, as he left the dying officer's presence. When they arrived aft the latter coolly observed,
"I'm sorry for Ford—but it was a very narrow escape for either of us."
"Yes," replied the captain, "it was, no doubt, an act of Providence that we escaped."
The brutal officers actually imagined their Creator had specially interfered to save one of their miserable lives; and they were not the first tyrants who have flattered themselves in that manner.
Lieutenant Ford never rallied sufficiently to give directions as to the disposal of his affairs, but lay calmly and patiently, as if waiting for the messenger of death. Once he murmured "Florence." He evidently was conscious that he was dying, yet death seemed to have no terror for him. The doctor and Clare prayed for the poor fellow, each according to his faith, and the Christian's lips moved in response to theirs. Whatever his belief might have been, he certainly was a good man, and far above the narrow prejudices of sect. He lay there—calm and peaceful—with a rapturous, heavenly expression of countenance, as if, though still lingering by its earthly form, his spirit was fore-tasting the joys of a better world. About noon he breathed his last; and so quietly did the soul pass away, that when the sorrowing midshipmen, who were silently grouped round the entrance to the sick-bay, were informed that the happy face was that of a dead man, they could not believe it. One by one they came in and gazed upon their dead friend, some finding it hardly possible to restrain their grief.
About sunset the body of Lieutenant Ford was committed to the deep—cast overboard into the sea—to be devoured by fishes, or float about until dispersed by the water—far away from friends, and the gentle being who loved him so dearly, and to whom he had been so tenderly attached.
Puffeigh buried the body with all the puny pomp of an officer's funeral at sea. It mattered little to the noble spirit whether a few meaningless ceremonies were performed or omitted; "his soul was gone aloft," and could not be recalled or affected by the commander's "service."
The sailors were all deeply grieved at the sudden death. Ford had always treated them in a kind and proper manner, and his untimely end was probably as sincerely lamented forward as aft. No man felt more sorrow than his assassin. The remembrance of his own sufferings seemed to have been entirely forgotten by him, so absorbed was he in the recollection of the dreadful crime he had committed. Crushe heaped every kind of insult and torture he could devise upon the man, who bore all with the resignation of a martyr.
Upon one occasion the first lieutenant cursed the prisoner to his face, and observed,
"Ah! you brute, you thought to murder me, did you?"
Upon hearing this the man quietly replied,
"Forgive me, sir—I am sorry for it."
"Forgive you, you hound! Yes—I'll forgive you when you're swinging from the yard-arm."
Instead of checking Crushe in his shameful tyranny, the death of his brother officer seemed to make him perfectly reckless, he doubtless thinking there was now no appeal or chance of hearing for his victims. He never for a moment appeared to rememberthat Ford's words about "dying for him" were true, and indeed, one day, when discussing the good officer's death, he remarked to Cravan,
"Possibly I should have done the magnanimous had I been in poor Ford's place. He could afford to say, 'Bless you, shipmates,' as he knew very well that his anchor was tripped."
Nosey did not make any reply to this brutal speech, as the mere recollection of the affair made him shudder.
When the Stinger arrived at Hong-Kong, Byrne was sent on board the flagship, and after a few days had elapsed, a court-martial was called upon his case. A well-known lawyer offered gratuitously to assist the prisoner, but his services were respectfully declined.
Crushe, the ship's corporal, and sergeant of marines, were the principal witnesses against the man; some petty officers were also examined, but not a word was said that would lead any member of the court to imagine the first lieutenant was anything but a gentle, humane officer.
The man had no defence, nor would he throw himself upon the mercy of the court, all he wanted being to die.
After mature deliberation, the court found the prisoner "Guilty," without the usual recommendation to mercy, and the president passed sentence of death in the ordinary form; adding that the prisoner was to be hanged from the yard-arm, and that the sentence was to be carried out on board the Stinger.
Byrne received the sentence with a calmness which was almost touching; and after bowing to the president was handcuffed, and taken back to his cell.
The chaplain visited the doomed man, but the latter declined his services, observing that he did not require government religion, as his own faith was sufficient to carry him through.
One morning at sunrise the Stinger steamed out of Hong-Kong harbour, with several boats towing alongside. These had brought "black-list men" from various ships in the fleet, who were detailed to assist at the execution of Byrne. Forward on the hammock netting, abreast of the fore hatchway, and over a gun port, a grating was rigged platform wise; to this the fatal noose was secured by a rope yarn, the fall being led across the deck to the starboard side, so that the black-list men could not see the object which they were to run aloft.
When the crew were mustered and duly placed in position, the prisoner was brought up from below, guarded on either side by sentries. As he ascended the fore hatchway his eyes fell upon the grating, but he preserved his coolness, and in fact gave a sigh of relief at beholding it. When he had removed his jumper, the commander gave the order to pinion him. This being done, as far as the arms were concerned, Puffeigh read the warrant for execution, then turning to the man, observed,
"Prisoner, if you wish to say a few words to your shipmates you can do so, but be brief and temperate in your language."
Facing round towards his shipmates, Byrne spoke as follows:—"Messmates and shipmates, I didn't mean to kill Lieutenant Ford, and I willingly die for my crime; but if any of you ever become free men again, tell the world how sailors are treated. Good-bye; God bless and deliver you from all your slavery."
The commander bit his lips and looked round at the men, who, upon hearing these bold words, uttered a murmur of pity.
"Silence!" he roared. "Boatswain, do your duty."
Shever and his mates had stationed the black-list men at the fall, on the other side of the deck and upon receiving these instructions he helped the prisoner to mountthe platform. When he had taken his stand upon the horizontal grating, the boatswain and his assistants secured his lower limbs. As they were doing this, Byrne evidently prayed, as his lips moved, and every now and then he reverently bowed his head. Then upon a signal from the captain, Shever fitted the cap, and having adjusted the fatal noose, slipped off the grating, and stood beside Puffeigh.
The captain nodded assent. "Hoist away!" piped the boatswain, and the same was repeated by his mates. The gunner's-mate fired the gun which protruded from the port under the platform where the wretched man was standing, and Byrne was run aloft in the smoke. The rope was so adjusted, that upon the body nearly reaching the yard-arm a seizing parted, and the man fell about three feet below the yard, the drop breaking his neck most effectually.
The black-list men hurried over the ship's side into their boats, and the Stinger steamed slowly out of the harbour with the body of the late able seaman swinging from the yard-arm. After steaming for an hour in the direction of Cap-sing-moon Passage, the boatswain was directed to cut the body adrift. Shever went aloft, and out upon the yard-arm like one about to perform a noble action. Upon arriving at the end of the yard he drew forth a knife, and leaning over severed the rope by which Byrne was suspended, upon which the body shot down like a plummet, and disappeared beneath the water. Shever peered down after it, shading his eyes with his hands, to see if it rose again; but beyond a few bubbles over the spot, there was nothing to be seen, the body possibly being seized by sharks.
"He's gone, and be hanged to him!" said the boatswain. Upon which he looked down upon the up-turned faces of the crew and grinned like a baboon, then reclosed his knife, placed it in his pocket, and descended to the quarter-deck, where he reported the business to Crushe.
"I think we did that werry scientific," observed the brute to his superior.
"Very well indeed, Mr. Shever," sneered the first lieutenant. "When they want a hangman on shore, you'd better volunteer for the appointment."
The boatswain smiled and saluted, as if a great compliment had been paid him. After which he went below—drank freely, and was finally put to bed for sunstroke, brute as he was, the morning's work being too much for his nerves.
Report says that the ghost of Byrne duly haunted the ship, and from time to time appeared to sundry sailors and small boys, whom it frightened out of their wits, but it never seemed to trouble the captain, or any of its former persecutors, possibly thinking it had enough of those worthies' attention when in the flesh, without troubling itself about them when in the spirit. We leave this mythical point to be settled by spiritualists.
After the body of Byrne had been disposed of, the Stinger returned to Hong-Kong, where the men, one watch at a time, were permitted to visit the shore. Many of them deserted, and succeeded in making good their escape in American ships, which left the harbour about that time; others joined piratical Chinese vessels, and became notorious for their cruelty towards their captives; while the less cautious sailors, getting intoxicated and overstaying their leave of absence, were re-captured by the ship's corporal and sergeant of marines, who were paid the usual blood money for their activity in securing the deserters. When the ship was thoroughly refitted, and the vacancies in her crew had been filled by drafts from other vessels, Puffeigh was directed to proceed to sea in search of pirates; the admiral imagining that, if he sent the Stingers away for a time upon active service, their commander would be enabled to get them into something like discipline, they having been represented to him as "a lot of worthless wretches, who could only be kept in order by the cat-o'-nine tails."
During their cruise Crushe succeeded in bringing several of the new men to the gratings, and his general language and conduct towards the crew were as bad as ever.
After having searched the coast for over six months, during which time they captured and destroyed a great number of junks, lorchas, and other piratical craft, the Stinger returned to Hong-Kong, where her officers and crew received their letters and newspapers, which had accumulated at the Post-Office during their absence, the delivery to the crew taking place as follows. The ship's corporal and Sergeant Spine having obtained the sack of mails, proceeded forward with it, and upon reaching the forecastle shot the contents into a dry wash deck tub; then the boatswain piped, "Hands, lay forward for your letters." Every one was on the alert, and a dozen men who could read clustered round the tub, and assisted in the pleasing task of distributing the epistles.
"Bill Bowker!"
"Gone ashore. I'm his chum—here, chuck it over."
"Jerry Thompson!—one, two, three letters."
"Heave 'em here," cried the wag, who had brought up a bucket in which to receive his correspondence.
"Charles Smith!"
"Vich Chawles is it?" demanded a stumpy individual; "is it I or Conkey Smith?"
"Tommy Sims!"
"Runned away," observed one of the boys.
"Charles Dunstable—oh! he's dead."
"Harry Tomlin!"
"Bolted at Singapore."
"Tom Clare! three letters for you, old man."
"Jerry Thompson! Jerry Thompson! here you are, a regular bunch of 'em. All the girls in Portsmouth must av bin awriting you, Jerry."
"Werry possible," coolly retorted the coxswain. "It's more than they'd do to you, old fetch-and-carry."
"Mister Robert Brown! Here Bobby, here's a letter from one of them ere lords as you is related to."
"Chuck it over ere, and hold yer thundering jaw," growled the gentleman alluded to.
When the tub was cleared of its contents, a sale of letters commenced, i. e. those who had none purchased one or two at second hand from their more fortunate shipmates.
"Now, then," shouted a freckled-face Pat, "here's a chance for yez, my boys,—a letthur from me Cousin Eiley—full av love and tinderness. Who sez a pint ov grog for this? wid two songs, one called 'Teddy Regan,' and the other 'Nora O'Shane,' put into the bargain. The letthur is worth all the grog, as it's chock full of family matters. Come, me boys! who sez a pint?" Upon this a big, stupid-looking topman called out in a half-ashamed manner,—"Heave it over here, Tim, I'll give ye a pint for it next time I'm cook." Having received it, the man walked below to his mess, where he indulged in the luxury of spelling over the letter, which we will give, with his comments upon the same.
"Limerick(I wish I was there)."My darlin Tim(that's affectionate, anyhow),"Ye will be sorry to learn that your aunt O'Brien is dead, an' has bin waked and berried, rest her sowld." (She's a good religious girl, anyhow.) "Peter McMahon swears he'll kill ye the fust time he sets eyes on ye, as yer brother Michael split the skull of his father's uncle during the wake." (Never mind, Tim; I'll help you.) "Tim achushla machree, send us yer half pay, for the love of Mary—we're nigh starved at times, an' it's hard work for a poor girl to keep straight, and she so poor and so many temptations round her." (Poor girl, I'll send her my half pay if he don't. Tim ain't half thoughtful for her.) "Mary Connor is married, and her husband gone to sea with a black eye she gave him" (I suppose he deserved it, anyhow); "an' Kathleen Shea wants to know if ye mean to keep yer word with her." (If he don't I will.)"Yer mother sends her love, and with the same from yer loving"Eiley Rooney."(Bless her dear heart, how life-like she do write; that's what I call a nateral sort of letter.)
"Limerick(I wish I was there).
"My darlin Tim(that's affectionate, anyhow),
"Ye will be sorry to learn that your aunt O'Brien is dead, an' has bin waked and berried, rest her sowld." (She's a good religious girl, anyhow.) "Peter McMahon swears he'll kill ye the fust time he sets eyes on ye, as yer brother Michael split the skull of his father's uncle during the wake." (Never mind, Tim; I'll help you.) "Tim achushla machree, send us yer half pay, for the love of Mary—we're nigh starved at times, an' it's hard work for a poor girl to keep straight, and she so poor and so many temptations round her." (Poor girl, I'll send her my half pay if he don't. Tim ain't half thoughtful for her.) "Mary Connor is married, and her husband gone to sea with a black eye she gave him" (I suppose he deserved it, anyhow); "an' Kathleen Shea wants to know if ye mean to keep yer word with her." (If he don't I will.)
"Yer mother sends her love, and with the same from yer loving
"Eiley Rooney."
(Bless her dear heart, how life-like she do write; that's what I call a nateral sort of letter.)
At the first quiet opportunity, the sailor questioned Tim as to what his Cousin Eily was like, and the answer he obtained was a quencher to his passion. "She's an ould devil, as keeps a fruit stall, an' is as ugly as the skipper, an' that's saying no little, me boy. But if ye wants to fall in love wid an illigant slip ov a colleen, I'll intrejuce yez to me Cousin Nora for a trifle ov grog." However, once bit twice shy, and the now enlightened sailor concluded to leave Tim's relations alone.
Thompson received about twenty-five letters in all, including one in the German language from Miss Pferdscreptern, which having opened, turned over, and held in every conceivable position, he reluctantly sold to a foretopman, who, not being able to read, did not care whether it was in German or Hebrew. After picking out Mary Ann's epistles, Jerry sold the balance of his correspondence unopened, and realized thereby a very handsome profit.
Clare had three short notes from Polly, that is, they were written for her by a friend, as she was unable to write even her own signature, although she contrived to spell out the letters Tom sent her, he always writing in a very round hand for her accommodation. Clare found that his wife had made him a father, and that the mother and child were doing well.
"God bless the dear creetur and her babby," he murmured, and a big tear stole down his cheek and dropped upon the paper.
As the correspondence was written by a stranger, he did not expect there would be many tender passages, but he found the letters cold and formal, and for the moment cursed his fate, and imagined how warmly she would greet him with her own lips could he but see her then. However, he knew she was naturally shy; and comforting himself with the reflection that they would meet when his time was up, he put the letters in his tobacco box, and went in search of Jerry Thompson, to whom he imparted the news.
"Well, I'm werry glad to think it's a boy, but wouldn't you have liked a gal better, Tom?"
"I like either a gal or a boy; it's all the same to me."
"Well! you're a father and I ain't, but if I was in your shoes I'd prefer a gal. I always likes the gals afore any other sex. By-the-by, I have heered from my Mary Ann."
"Have you? What does she say?"
"Well, first of all she says her missis av bin werry dicky and likely to croak, and the sawboneses sent them off to Nice for the air, and she's as hearty as a brick, and a learnin' French like one o'clock. But I hope she won't learn it on the same principle as I did German."
Clare who was very little interested in his friend's recital, inquired rather vaguely,
"Have you ever learned German?"
"Yes—well—I—excuse me; there's the old man a hollerin' for me. Good-bye, Tom." Saying which the coxswain got up and walked briskly aft, as if in obedience to the captain's summons.
The ship had been in harbour about a week and everything was adrift, as is usually the case during refitting, when a signal was made from the flag-ship for "the Stinger to proceed to sea." A number of the men had just mustered upon the quarter-deck previous to going on shore, and were of course dismissed to duty again, and the signal made for all boats to come off at once. Knowing the ship was short-handed, some of the crew being absent on leave, the admiral sent about forty picked seamen and twenty marines on board, and in a few hours everything was ready for sea, upon which they slipped anchor, and made the best of their way through the Cap-sing-moon Passage.
Crushe adopted quite a conciliatory manner when speaking to the supernumeraries, knowing it would not do to bully them as he did his own men, consequently the former thought "the Stingers were a dissatisfied lot, who, without a cause, gave their first lieutenant a bad name."
By daylight they arrived off the bay to which they had been guided by Hoo-kee, their pilot, who, clad in a cast-off suit of Puffeigh's, walked the bridge in a dignified manner; never leaving his elevated position until the first shot was fired, upon which he darted below, and hid himself in a sand-tank until the engagement was over.
Hoo-kee told Puffeigh that they were off the entrance of a bay which contained a regular fleet of piratical junks, commanded by one Seh-wang; and he strongly urged him to send away his boats and attack the junks under cover of the fog, it being impossible to take the ship in during the time it continued. Upon this Lieutenant Wilton, who had been appointed to the vacancy caused by Ford's death, informed the commander that he "knew every inch of the bay, having surveyed it about a year ago." After a short consultation, and being urged strongly by the master, who was also an old China ranger, Puffeigh reluctantly consented, and with the leads going in bothchains, the Stinger slowly steamed into the bay, in spite of the fog, which was, to use a nautical expression, as thick as pea-soup.
The master went out upon the jibboom and watched for the slightest lift in the fog, while the captain and Lieutenant Wilton piloted the ship from the bridge.
"Starboard!" cried Wilton. "Starboard!" bawled Puffeigh. "Junk ahead! port your helm!" roared the master from forward.
Round went the wheel, and the Stinger shot past a huge junk, which loomed through the fog like a line-of-battle ship.
"Steady! Let go the anchor!" commanded the master, who thereupon came aft and reported to the captain that during a break in the fog he had seen several junks ahead, and it was advisable to heave short, and prepare for warm work, as soon as it cleared.
Puffeigh fussed about like an old woman, first directing the guns to be loaded with shot, then countermanding the order, and giving instructions to load with shell; and finally, by the advice of the master, who almost took charge of the ship, he ordered them to load with grape and canister. The gunner and his mates prayed for him.
Crushe worried round and blustered like the Pistol that he was, now and then ordering some youngster out of what the lad considered a snug place, swearing he'd have no skulking cowards in his ship, and all the time wishing himself somewhere else.
The man who talks big before an engagement is generally very quiet during the fight, and it proved so in this instance. Puffeigh was not afraid; but being thoroughly incompetent to take his ship into action, had to rely upon the master and Lieutenant Wilton.
The ship had been cleared for action before they arrived off the bay, so there was very little to do after they had anchored, but to man the capstan, ready to weigh, the moment they could descry the pirates.
Wilton requested permission to go ahead of the ship and explore the bay, but thinking the risk too great, the commander would not allow him to do so. The men were standing round their guns, which were all fully manned—here and there along the deck being stationed powder-monkeys—i. e. boys detailed to pass the leathern cases containing charges of gunpowder, who, seated on their cartridge boxes, looked into the fog as knowingly as the oldest salts in the ship. Some of the men munched biscuit, which was surreptitiously obtained from below by the more daring boys, who risked punishment to curry favor with the seamen; and all of them imbibed pretty freely of the usual fighting drink—oatmeal and water—tubs of that Scottish beverage being placed in different parts of the upper deck.
Crushe, Puffeigh, and Mr. Beauman, the master, were consulting upon the bridge, when suddenly the fog lifted, upon which the skipper became very much excited, and directed the port bow-gun to be fired, "to wake 'em up, you know."
"For Heaven's sake, don't do that!" urged the master; "we will wake them up in a moment; they mustn't see us just yet."
Upon this the captain held his peace, and left the manœuvring to be done by abler persons, contenting himself by looking very imposing, and whenever he could catch a sentence bellowing it through his speaking-trumpet to the officer for whom it was intended. The men laughed at him behind his back, as all of them could see he was utterly adrift.
Away steamed the Stinger straight for the nearest craft, which proved to be a lorcha, and by no means a despicable enemy. She was evidently well manned and armed, and quite prepared for the man-of-war. The rest of the pirates were further up the bay,some of them being but partly visible, as the fog still lingered there; but they were all now awake, and firing crackers to their gods, or beating gongs in a very energetic and ferocious manner.
The big lorcha suddenly swung round, and sent a hail of shot across the Stinger's decks. No one was hurt by this discharge, the crew all being down behind their guns, which formed, as it were, so many breastworks for them; but the ship was twice hulled, once badly on the port bow near the water line. The Stinger quickly put her helm a-port, as the lorcha was again endeavouring to swing into position, so as to give her another broadside. They were now within a cable's length of the pirate; but, in spite of her rapid firing, they steamed right ahead. Wilton and Mr. Beauman were on the bridge with the captain, who, when he saw they intended to run into the lorcha, and carry her by boarding, bristled up, and seizing his speaking-trumpet bellowed forth,
"Hands, repel boarders on both bows!"
Up sprang the men, who obedient to orders rushed forward and swarmed upon the forecastle. Crash came another broadside from the pirate, killing two men and wounding several others. One moment more, and the steam-ship ran into the lorcha. Smash went the bulwarks of the latter, and with a hearty cheer the sailors swarmed over the Stinger's bows, upon seeing which many of the pirates leapt overboard. Thompson was delighted, and had several combats with his enemies, who were rapidly disarmed and kicked over-board by the good-natured fellow. As he was one of the first men below, he had the honour of killing the pirate-captain, Seh-wang. On entering the stateroom, Jerry found himself confronted by that huge Chinaman who was fencing at him with two swords, uttering most unearthly sounds as he did so. The sailor quietly cut down his guard, and then told him to get out of the port, upon which Seh-wang fumbled in his dress for a moment, then drawing forth a revolver, shut both eyes and pulled the trigger. Snick went the cap, but no other report followed. Upon this Jerry ran him through the body, and having looted him, i. e., taken everything valuable, he coolly secured his plunder and went on deck, reaching it just in time to jump on board the Stinger, which was now becoming a mark for the pirates at the upper end of the bay. When he got to the quarter-deck he informed Puffeigh that he had killed the Chinese captain, but as the lorcha was fired by the Stingers, the fact of his killing Seh-wang was never proved, although the Chinese declared he perished with the ship, and Thompson lost special mention for bravery; but he consoled himself with his loot, and considered the account balanced. Had the fact of his having searched the body been known, Puffeigh would have compelled him to disgorge his plunder, his maxim being that all such articles belonged to himself.
The Stinger now made the best of her way up the bay; as she did so, keeping up a galling fire from her bow guns. Having arrived nearly within short range of the pirates' fire, Puffeigh ordered the anchor to be let go, and when the ship swung to the tide, she being broadside on, poured a telling discharge into the junks, two or three of which were shortly afterwards discovered to be on fire. The pirates replied in a most determined manner, and a severe engagement ensued, during which the ship was badly hulled and several men killed or wounded. Old Price, who was acting as captain of the starboard bow gun, was cut in two by a chain shot. Boy Jordun, who seemed to think the engagement was a sort of theatrical spectacle, and who ran about as unconcernedly as possible, received a ball in his left arm—upon which he went below to the doctor, and after observing that he thought he was wounded, the plucky child fell upon the dead body of a man stretched out upon the floor, and fainted away from loss of blood.Clare quietly did his duty, but the lash had taken all enthusiasm out of him; towards the end of the action he was hit on the forehead, but he merely bound his neck-handkerchief round the wound, and kept at his gun.
The Chinese fired all sorts of missiles—bar, chain, and round shot—musket balls, and copper cash—some going far beyond the Stinger, and others falling along way short. Finding there was little chance of beating off the man-of-war, the pirates set fire to their ships and abandoned them. Upon seeing this Puffeigh ordered his men to cease firing; and having cleared the decks and weighed anchor, the Stinger steamed towards the town, passing, as she did so, the line of piratical vessels, many of which were burning most furiously.
Old Jemmy was standing upon the carriage of his gun, looking over the side, and passing comments upon the junks as the ship steamed slowly passed them, when a gun on board one of them was discharged by the heat, and the ball striking the old man, stretched him senseless upon the deck. Several men sprang forward to assist him, and he was carried below and handed over to the surgeon.
The Stingers counted thirty-five craft in all; and as these were moored in a line so as to mask the town, they were not aware, until they rounded the last junk, of the little amusement which was going on between the townspeople and the pirates who had taken to the water. It seems that the former, finding matters were going against the freebooters, had turned outen masse, and prevented their landing, and when the man-of-war hove in sight, round the stem of the last lorcha, they were engaged in the lively business of knocking the pirates over the heads with bamboos, clubs, or stones. Upon seeing their British allies, they boldly put off in their sampans, and slaughtered their former tyrants most perseveringly.
"Where's the pilot? Where's Hoo-kee?" demanded Puffeigh.
After a search, the too-brave Chinaman was found, and being interrogated by the skipper, sagely informed him that, "Peecee man lib here catchee pilong and gib he fum-fum," this information being a not very lucid explanation of the state of affairs going on alongside the ship, which any child could understand, without its being thus oracularly described by the Chinaman.
Taking the advice of his officers, Puffeigh left the pirates to be dealt with by the townspeople, and the Stingers were piped to breakfast. All were quite ready for the food which they brought on deck and devoured as they viewed the slaughter of the pirates, the same being a novel zest for their meal.
Puffeigh took this opportunity to reconnoitre the bay, and found it was surrounded by high hills, with its entrance masked by rocks, which rendered it a most desirable resort for pirates, as without previous intimation any ship might pass up and down the coast a hundred times and not suspect the existence of an inlet in that place. He now perceived the burnt hull of an English merchant-ship lying near the town; and as he had been sent to avenge the outrage of this very seizure, he determined, when his men were refreshed, to land and endeavour to ascertain the fate of the crew of the burnt vessel.
"Boat alongside, sir," sang out the sentry on the bridge.
"What is she?"
"Chinese, sir."
"Send Hoo-kee here."
Upon this the pilot walked to the gangway and saluted the Celestials, who climbed over the side, speaking of course in his own vernacular.
"Hi! you dogs. I'm pilot here. If you don't cumshaw me (i. e. fee me), I'll get these red-haired devils to burn your town about your ears."
"Most illustrious sir!" exclaimed the foremost moon-face, "we are very poor, but" (puffing through want of breath) "we will pay you two hundred dollars to assist us, if you'll come on shore and fetch it."
"What does the fellow say?" demanded Puffeigh.
"He say, some peecee pilong come catchee he long tim, and he no savee how many peecee Eingleesh man him kill."
"Bring them aft, here."
The self-appointed deputation of towns-folks walked aft, and falling upon their knees, kow-tow'd (i. e. knocked their foreheads upon the deck), and then awaited the great Fanqui's pleasure.
"Tell them to get up."
"Get up, you fools; this old rice-bag doesn't know what kow-tow is."
"We'd rather not, my lord. Tell the great man we can'tlie easilywhen we look at his terrible hairy face."
"What do they say, Hoo-kee?"
"Why, him say you too muchee lansome, and he fraid speekee you spose him lookee you in him face."
"Hum!" The flattery tickled the vain old fellow, who thereupon allowed the deputation to remain upon their knees, and by the assistance of the pilot learnt, that Seh-wang left one night, and that on the following morning they saw a foreign-built vessel anchored in the bay. Some of the pirates who landed to visit their wives told them that they had killed all the Fanquis but one woman, whom they had landed and removed from the town to a joss-house, which they pointed out upon one of the neighbouring hills, where it was presumed she would now be found.
Upon hearing this, it was determined to land the sailors and marines, and march to the joss-house, which the towns-people stated was about seventy le (ten miles) from the town.
"Mr. Shever, pipe man and arm boats."
In a few moments the ship's boats were in the water and the crews in their places, the pinnace with its brass howitzer, and first and second cutters with their rocket apparatus, being, on account of their armament, the last boats ready. Much to his chagrin, Mr. Beauman, was left behind in charge of the ship, the whole of the executive officers being detailed for shore duty. About twelve o'clock Puffeigh stepped into his gig, and the flotilla proceeded towards the shore, the master having instructions if he saw a white flag flying in the gig, to shell the town, ten men and boys being left on board to carry out this duty.
Upon reaching the shore a number of the townsfolks came down, and welcomed the party, whereupon Puffeigh assumed a grand air, and told the "elders" that they need not be alarmed, as he would not hurt them, this being translated to them by Hoo-kee, as follows:—
"You crouching dogs, this vermilion-faced devil says if you don't hand over the dollars upon our return from the joss-house, he'll blow you into the water."
"Tell them I want two guides, and that I will reward them if they are faithful."
"Do you hear? You common things! The vermilion-visaged devil says he wants two guides, who are to go with us at once."
Having selected a couple of active looking volunteers, the party commenced their journey. First marched the sailors under command of Lieutenant Wilton; these men drew the brass howitzer and its limber-boxes, it being fitted for use as a field piece. Next came a sedan containing Puffeigh, borne by six Chinese, twelve others being secured to act as relays. Bringing up the rear were the marines under control ofCrushe, these men carrying the rocket apparatus. Jerry Thompson walked by the side of the sedan, having charge of the bearers, and acting as a sort of aide-de-camp to the captain.
The fighting party marched through the streets to the tune of "Old Dan Tucker," played upon a violin, by one of the blue-jackets; and a more jolly set of fellows could not be imagined. All their troubles forgotten, all animosity buried, everything absorbed in one idea—the rescue of a poor girl from slavery.
Leaving the shore party to make the best of their way to the joss-house, we will return to the Stinger.
Master Jordun, who had been attended to and placed in a cot, finding the place pretty quiet after the departure of the fighting party, got up and cruised round the sick bay. He had made a critical survey of nearly all its occupants, and thought it time to return to his cot, fearing the surgeon would come back and give him a scolding, when his attention was suddenly arrested by hearing a husky voice repeat his name.
"Young Bill! I say! Come here."
"Who's that ere a flyin' my number?"
"Me—yer old chum, Jemmy," was the faint response.
"Where are ye?" demanded the boy, who could not see any resemblance to his friend in the mummy-like figure from which the sound appeared to proceed.
"Here I am, and it's all up with me, my boy—I'm going fast. Although that infernal sawbones ses I'm all right, Jemmy ain't long for this world."
"Humbug! You're all right. Why, I'm wounded and a walkin' about."
At this moment the surgeon entered, and asked the boy why he was out of his cot.
"Old Jemmy called me, sir."
"Is that the doctor!" quavered the old sailor.
"What do you want, my man? You must keep quiet."
Upon this the old fellow, calling the surgeon to him, desired he would bear witness that he left "his clothes, pay, and prize money to that ere kid Bill Jordun."
"I'll see that it is done; but if you remain quiet, you will recover."
Old Jemmy kept quite still until the surgeon left again, upon which he called to the boy and told him to step out of the sick-bay, and go to his ditty box, in which he would find a bottle of grog, and to bring it to him at once, never mind who said no.
The young scamp, desirous of pleasing the man who had made him his heir, did as he was directed; and having secured the bottle, took it to his friend, who begged him to put it to his lips—"gentle, my boy." The lad did as he was desired, and having held it there until he thought the old fellow had imbibed his share, he removed it and took a pull at it himself.
"Give us another nip," piteously pleaded the mummy.
"It ain't good for you, old 'un—you knows it isn't," replied the boy; who, however, replaced the bottle to his friend's lips, and allowed him to empty its contents.
"I'm blowed! if he ain't a sucked it dry!" ejaculated the lad. "I say, Jemmy, how do you feel now?"
But old Jemmy replied not, so the boy covered him up and left him.
About five hours after this the sick-bay man, thinking the old man was very quiet, proceeded to uncover his face, and found he was dead; upon which he reported to the surgeon that, "Old Jemmy were dead, and that he smelt werry strong of rum." Boy Jordun became delirious during the night, and as he also was perfumed in the same manner, the doctor concluded that some numskull had given them a glass of grog, and blamed his man for not keeping a good look-out.
Some time after when the boy was informed of the death of his friend, he snivelled, and declared "he was werry sorry, as the old bloke was allus a thundering good old kove to him."
Finding everything was pretty quiet, the master boarded all the junks which were not much injured by fire, and hoisted the British flag upon them as prizes. By the time this was done it became necessary to return to the ship; and having set the watch, and made the rounds, Mr. Beauman retired to rest, thoroughly done up. Nothing occurred to render it imperative that he should be called during the night, and the Stingers not on duty slumbered in their hammocks; while those who were compelled to remain upon deck kept their eyes open, and thought how calm and peaceful the bay appeared, with the stars shining down upon the water, beneath which were sunk eleven hundred pirates, who twenty-four hours before had been alive, and quite unconscious of their approaching fate. A few of the more superstitious among the watchers declared that every now and then some of the murdered men would rise to the surface, groan and sink again. Probably it was the noise of fish they heard, but to the day of their deaths they believed that "Bloody Bay" (as they termed it) swarmed with spirits that night. One man was so affected by his fears, that he left his post, and going below was led into the ward-room, where he came across a bottle of brandy, a portion of which he found himself compelled to swallow. No doubt he was under the baneful influence of the spooks when he did this, as when he was found helplessly reclining upon the fore hatchway, he gravely declared that it was seeing so many ghosts that took away his senses. As the man had been twice flogged, the humane master forgave him, and determined not to report the circumstance to the captain, when the latter returned; which act of clemency so touched the delinquent, that he made a vow not to take another drop of grog during the time he belonged to the ship. And to his honour be it said, he faithfully kept his word.
More than twenty-four hours had passed, and he had seen no sign of the landing-party. Beauman got the ship in order, repaired the rigging, and obtained some fruit and vegetables from the shore, but when the sun went down the second night the master was still left in suspense, and, to tell the truth, became quite uneasy, never leaving the deck a moment during the night. When morning broke a sampan came off with a message from the head man of the town, from which Beauman, who could speak a little Chinese, made out that the Stingers had found the pirates at home, but had been beaten off with great loss, and were fleeing towards the mountains.
He knew that the landing party was but small, and if they had fallen into an ambuscade all of them might be murdered; but knowing how unblushingly the Chinese can pervert the truth, he made up his mind to await further developments. Sending the messenger back with a polite intimation, that if the expedition did not return within eight-and-forty hours he would fire upon the town, he devoted his energies to instructing the boys how to act in case the party were lost, and in training his guns upon prominent buildings, the ship being moored broadside on to the place. During the day they buried the dead, and eight bodies were conveyed to a small island near the entrance of the bay, and decently interred.
When night set in Beauman became restless, and began to think there was some truth in the story brought off from the shore. "Sixty hours away from the ship, and no sign of them yet. Poor fellows! they have been captured and put to death."
We will now return to Puffeigh and his party, whom we left upon the march towards the joss-house.
Along canal banks, over paddy fields, across bridges, by villages, whose inhabitants would run out, hoot and spit at the foreign devils, and vapour about what they would do were they only able; past private residences surrounded by every accessory known to a luxurious people; skirting walled towns and small cities, they wended their way without stop or rest. Now and then their course lay through orchards, or fields skirted with lychee trees, but no one was allowed to break off a branch, although the commander knew that a few bunches of the fruit would have been a boon to his men. The sedan bearers trotted on with Puffeigh; and as the latter considered that his men ought to walk as well as the Chinese did, it never once entered his mind to order a halt until night surprised them as they were entering a village.
"What is this place called?" demanded the skipper.
"Hong-soo."
"March to the joss-house!"
"Pilot says he don't think they rate one, sir," observed Jerry. "It's a werry one-horse sort of a place."
However, in a short time they unearthed the "elders" of the village, who, after striking a smart bargain with Hoo-kee, proceeded to show the way to the joss-house, which was found upon examination to be clean and tolerably large. Having opened the massive outer doors, the "elders" pointed out a number of sheds built against the wall of the court-yard. These they offered for the accommodation of the men, who were soon in possession, and had their supper under weigh in quick time. After directing the howitzer to be placed in position with its muzzle pointing towards the entrance, and the guard being set, Puffeigh followed the obsequious "elders" into the joss-house, and as there were no side chapels, he was obliged to take up his abode before the idol. The villagers furnished the party with any quantity of candles, and in a short space of time the temple was thoroughly illuminated, and presented a very animated appearance. The "elders" now withdrew, promising to return with some chow-chow, which they informed Puffeigh was being prepared for his supper. The great doors of the joss-house were thrown back, and the captain and officers looked out upon the court-yard, and watched the men as the latter prepared their meal.
A number of the women of the village had established a market in the centre of the enclosure, and were driving quite a trade in fried eggs, sweet potatoes and little pork pies, while here and there were men carrying huge buckets containing boiled rice, which they sold to the sailors for anything they could get, taking money or goods according to circumstances. Thompson was in attendance upon the officers; and having found a jar of water, which he tested by forcing one of the bearers to swallow a quart, he proceeded to serve the brandy pawnee.
"That's a luxury," observed Crushe. "Thompson, you are one of the few men of the fleet who is not a fool; upon my word, you're not."
"Nobody but you ever thought I were, sir," retorted the coxswain, and with this observation Jerry retired behind the idol, and took a quiet drink.
At this moment a gong was heard, and in marched the "elders," heading a procession of food-bearers. Having deposited their burdens, the coolies withdrew, upon which the "elders" spread the feast out upon the floor of the temple, and invited the officers to partake of the repast.
Puffeigh felt very bewildered at this unlooked-for hospitality, but the fact was, upon their entering the place, Hoo-kee had struck a bargain with the "elders," that, upon consideration of his being paid fifty dollars and free chow-chow for the officers, he would prevent the Fanquis from sacking and destroying their village. Hence all this civility; the "elders" being delighted to find their visitors did not wish to cook and eat any of their infants, that being, according to their traditions, the usual food of the "red-haired, foreign, out-side barbarians."
Puffeigh looked at the food, and then asked Hoo-kee if it were all right?
"Belle good peece chow-chow, nomba one, fust chop," replied the pilot, who seized a bowl of rice, and a pair of chop-sticks, and proceeded to illustrate the truth of his assertion.
Thompson hovered round the officers, and gave his opinion of the dishes, recommending some, and warning them against others, as his fancy suggested.
"That looks terribly like a boiled dog," he remarked to Crushe, who was turning over a stewed fowl. "It's either that or a cat; don't you eat none of that ere, sir."
The lieutenant left that dish; and seizing another near it, boldly commenced to eat, shutting his eyes to any peculiarity of aspect or taste which he met with during his meal. Puffeigh enjoyed his greatly, but was very much disconcerted by Jerry's remark as he cleared away the last bowl.
"Did you like the last raghot, sir?"
"Well, it wasn't bad; but why do you ask?"
"Oh! it's nothing, sir, only a fancy o' mine."
"What!—wa—what was it?" he fiercely demanded.
"Oh, a mere trifle, sir; only a hinfant's ears left in the dish, that's all, sir; they're fond o' ears, I believe."
"Where's the dish? give it here, you fellow!"
Thompson brought forward the bowl and exhibited two substances which certainly resembled infants' ears, but were in reality those of a young deer, the head of which had been served up with a delicious white sauce. Puffeigh, however, did not know this; and although he pooh pooh'd the affair, and told Jerry that he was a thick-headed fool for his pains, was nevertheless internally uncomfortable, so that a meal perfect in quality and cookery gave him anything but pleasant sensations.
When the officers had finished their repast, Thompson retreated to the back of the idol, where he feasted with the pilot. Everything might have been compounded of dog or cat, for all he cared, as upon completing his meal he observed to his companion, "Well, Hookey, this is the first blow out as I've had o' your grub; and, taking it as a whole, it's werry good, but werry rum-looking sort of stuffin;" then filling a glass with brandy, the coxswain winked at the Celestial, and observing, "Here's teowards you, Walker," he drank, after which, stretching himself upon the floor, he dropped off into a profound slumber.
Hoo-kee walked out of the temple, and paid a visit to the "elders," who proposed a friendly game of cards; and the festive youths drank samshoo and gambled until the morning broke. Hoo-kee had met his match; and upon counting up his losses found, not only that he had lost the fifty dollars he had squeezed out of the head men overnight, but had been relieved of a large sum besides; but he left the party fully impressed with the idea that, had he been allowed to play one more game, his luck would have turned.
When he reached the joss-house he found the commander ready to start; and, with fiddle going, the Stingers filed out of the court-yard on their way towards the pirates' head-quarters. The townspeople had either told an untruth, or had not known the distance, for the party must have marched thirty miles before they sighted the place to which they were bound, although it was plainly visible from the deck of the Stinger. They had been marching up-hill, and probably the road was circuitous, so it was fully noon when, upon their turning a bend, the building suddenly burst upon view. The vanguard halted until Puffeigh came up. Seeing the place was to all appearance deserted, he directed Crushe to take a party and reconnoitre, while he ordered the rest of the men to halt, and stand at ease.
The lieutenant advanced cautiously, thinking the pirates were trying to draw them into an ambuscade; but after carefully surveying the outer fortification, which he found completely abandoned, entered the gateway. Before him was a wooden edifice, probably a joss-house, as described by the townspeople, and in front of it several cheerful-looking wooden gods, or demons, who served as a sort of scare-crow guard to the temple. There was no litter or signs of men having been there for some time, but on entering, Crushe noticed some exploded crackers upon the floor, and a smell of recently burnt joss-stick lingered suspiciously about the place.
Having examined the altar, torn down the dress of the idol, and kicked over the vases used in worshipping, Crushe walked out of the temple, and proceeded to examine the outbuildings, which were lean-to sheds built against the circular wall surrounding the place. Judge his astonishment upon seeing these places filled with Tartar ponies, about six of those animals being stalled in each compartment. But where were the men?
After an unsuccessful search, Crushe had to give it up; and leading out one of the most likely-looking ponies, returned to the commander. Puffeigh examined the beast—looked sagely at his teeth and patted it—then observed that it was no use for anyone to cause a delay, and gave the order to advance and take possession of the place, upon which the party got in motion; and having entered the enclosure, a boat's ensign was hoisted on the wall, and the officers and men camped within its shelter, until Puffeigh should determine what to do next.