The battle between the Sally and the piratesThe battle between the Sally and the piratesWe put up our helm and flew away down wind, and left her standing still, all her sails shaking, and in any amount of confusion."Well done, sir!" Sharpe shouted from aloft, and that seemed to wake me again, and Dicky and his Maxim gun's crew were yelling with delight, and then everybody cheered because the second junk wouldn't face us, but luffed up and popped off her guns. She was too unsteady, or too much in a hurry, and we were going too fast, to give her a chance of hitting us. "Passed two of 'em, sir," Sharpe sang out cheerily; "get those stink things overboard, sir." That was the first thing which made me notice that I'd been coughing, and choking, and running at the eyes, and that there was a horrid smell.There was a round basketwork thing spluttering and fizzing, and the beastly stinking smoke coming out of it, lying jammed in a corner close to me. I got it overboard somehow, and heard it fizzle as it fell in the water—ugh! the stink was awful. The others which had come on board were got rid of somehow or other—the men had thrown them or they had rolled overboard—but everyone was coughing and wiping their eyes, especially the six-pounder gun's crew, who were to leeward, and so had got most of the smoke.When I could see out of my eyes properly, there was Dicky grinning at me from the poop, and I did really think, at the time, too, that he must have either gone off his head or was actually enjoying himself. The two junks which we had passed were coming along after us now; the first one was a long way astern, and the second broad on our port quarter. Fergusson had got the smoke out of his eyes too, and began banging at this cowardly second one; and we could see that she was trying to edge away out of range of his shells.But now we were rushing down towards the last two junks. They were lashing along on the port tack, heeling over till we could almost see their keels, and were coming straight towards us on the other side—to starboard (our right-hand side). I couldn't see them at all from the high poop because our sails were in the way, so went down close to the men steering, and could then see them by looking under the foot of the mainsail. Sharpe came and stood by me, and I didn't feel so nervous.The nearer one was about a hundred yards off."Wait a little, sir! Wait a little!" Sharpe said. We were both peering under the sail, and Dicky had gone for'ard to see if he could get the six-pounder to fire. "When she's a leetil bit closer, turn away from her, sir."There was only fifty yards between us now, and we were rushing to meet at a point.Thirty yards! Twenty yards! I couldn't breathe. They yelled and shook their arms about; we could see them all clinging to the weather gunwale.I looked at Sharpe. "Now, sir!" he cried, and I sang out, "Starboard!" and our bows slewed away from her."Haul in the sheet, sir! Quick, sir! or she'll be on to us and carry away the sails," and everyone jumped to the sheets and began hauling in the huge booms of the foresail and mainsail. TheSallyheeled over, with the wind on her beam, and seemed almost to give a leap through the water. We thought that we should just shoot past the third junk, and were going to cheer, but the next thing I knew (the sails hid her now) there was a bump, and the junk suddenly appeared right on top of us. I was flung down—we all were—theSallyseemed to rebound, and there was another crash under her poop. I bent my head down, expecting the masts and sails to come toppling on top of me; but she must have only struck us grazing blows, because they didn't, and when I looked up again we had cleared her. "For God's sake, ease off those sheets!" Sharpe yelled, "or we'll gybe," and I had enough sense left to know that if we did gybe we should either capsize or carry away all our damaged starboard main rigging and lose our masts. The men at the helm scrambled to their feet, and had enough wit left to "starboard" a little. The sails were just shaking, uncertain whether they would swing right across to port, but that extra bit of starboard helm just did the trick and saved her. They were all too busy with the sheets to fire the Maxim or the six-pounder, and the next I knew was a roaring hot noise right in our faces—she had fired her broadside at us. My head and ears seemed banged in, and I shut my eyes, wondering where I should be hit. Then I heard Sharpe yell, "Mr. Morton's down, sir!" and I opened them to see Dicky lying on the deck where the dinghy had been, with his face and head covered with blood. I forgot about everything else, and jumped across to him, and tried to stop the blood with my dirty handkerchief, and make him say something; but Sharpe sang out, "For God's sake, sir, look where you're going!" and I heard the most awful noise of yelling under our port bow, and there was the fourth junk, towering above us and rasping along our side. I was knocked over again. I saw some iron things, like grapnels, thrown on board, with ropes fastened to them. One near me caught in the starboard gunwale, but jerked itself free; another missed the main rigging, but two caught somewhere on the poop, and I could see the lines on them tautening and the pirate junk turning after us, to ease the strain.There was a horrid feeling that theSallywasn't going so fast. Sharpe rushed past me with an axe in his hand, and I found myself on the poop next to him. He was hacking away with all his might, and cut through one rope; but there was the other grappling iron, caught in the damaged woodwork, and it had about six feet of chain secured to it, and he couldn't break that. He hacked and hacked, and we all tried to pull the grappling iron itself free, but couldn't move it, because the crew of the junk were hauling on the rope at the other end of the chain, and there was a tremendous strain on it; the rope and chain were as taut as a bar."HE HACKED AND HACKED""HE HACKED AND HACKED"I can't quite tell you what happened for the next few seconds; they seemed like years.The third junk was firing her broadside guns, and the one that had got hold of us was firing rifles; and we were covered with smoke, and could hear woodwork smashing somewhere all round us, and how it was we were not all killed I don't know to this day."I can't do it; God help us, sir!" Sharpe groaned, and left off hacking at the chain, and began to try and cut away the side of the poop where the grappling iron had fixed itself; but the edge of the axe was all blunted, and would hardly even cut wood. It was perfectly awful, and you could see the cruel brutes in the bows of the fourth junk hauling in the rope, hand over hand. They thought that they had caught us, and were making the most tremendous noise, shouting and yelling.They had hauled themselves to within twenty feet of us, and would be alongside in another few seconds. We could see them crowding for'ard, waving swords, and getting ready to pour on board. They began throwing stink balls, too, but these fell into the water, or, at any rate, we were too terrified to notice them.I suddenly wondered why the Maxim wasn't working—I'd not thought of it—and looked round and saw why. It was all battered in a heap, and two of its crew were lying underneath it.I don't know what I did, or quite what happened then, but I found myself under the poop, hunting among all the wreckage for my revolver.I didn't find it, but got hold of a cutlass and was rushing up again, when I heard Sharpe give a yell of joy, and was just in time to see that awful rope "part", and the people in the bows of the pirate junk fall on their backs in a heap."We're away, sir!" Sharpe shouted, and, darting for'ard to the six-pounder, sang out to the men steering to turn her round a little, and fired four times right into the pirate's bows.They came round, too, and fired their guns at us; but we were beyond worrying about gunshots now, after all we'd been through, and paid off again before the wind, the third and the fourth junks following us close behind, and the first two a long way behind.My head was simply going round and round, and my ears were ringing and buzzing. We were still in a cloud of powder smoke from the junks, and our poop was a perfect wreck.I had time to look round now—the Maxim gun was lying there, knocked to pieces, the two men near it were quite dead, horribly smashed up one was, and there was hardly an undamaged plank to be seen. The native boat hanging over our stern had been smashed to pieces, and the wreckage of it was trailing in the water. We cut it adrift. Bits of wood and sail and rope were lying all over the decks, and up above our sails were full of holes. The main gaff was hanging down and beating against the sail, and tearing long strips out of it; but the mast still stood, and the rudder wasn't damaged, and we were simply roaring through the water again.Then the third junk began creeping up on our starboard quarter, not overhauling us very fast, which showed that our speed wasn't much decreased; and directly the six-pounder would bear, Sharpe, who had taken charge of it, began firing into her, and hit her several times. We could see her trying to edge away.Right astern was the fourth junk, and half a mile astern the first and second. The third and the fourth kept on yawing, so that they could bring their guns to bear and fire at us, but lost ground doing this, and only made a few more holes in our sails.My people began to cheer—the seven who were left—because the open sea showed right in front of us; and then they cheered more loudly, because the first junk, which seemed to be very low in the water, suddenly shot up into the wind, the second junk, which had always given us a wide berth, followed her, and both of them began tacking over to the island.That left us only two to tackle—the fourth, which was about three hundred yards astern, and the third, which was broad on our starboard quarter, but was edging away to try and get out of range of Sharpe's little shells, and was quite out of it, as far as her own guns were concerned.But before she could get out of range, something happened which made her gybe badly—we were all running before the wind, you must remember. Whether Sharpe had smashed her steering gear or not, I don't know, but, at any rate, she lowered her foresail and hauled into the wind as if to repair something, and lost a great deal of ground before she paid off, and came after us again.Something, whatever it was, must have been very badly damaged, for she hauled her wind again; and the fourth did so too, sailing close up to her, and then—hurrah! how we cheered!—they both began beating to wind'ard towards the island, and we were left alone.I don't know how the men felt, but I felt giddy and weak and horribly sick, and had to hold myself up against the mizzen mast, because my knees trembled so much, and my head was splitting, and my mouth felt absolutely dry, and my ears were all buzzing and humming, and very painful.I jumped down to Dicky; he was lying just where he'd fallen, and he was quite unconscious, and had an awful gash across the side of his head. Some splinter must have struck him.The signalman said he knew something about "first aid", and brought the "first aid" bag, and bandaged him up, and wiped the blood off his face, and we brought him aft.Please don't think that I was cool enough to have written this down right on the spot. I couldn't possibly have done it. Everything went so fast, that you had no time for thinking, and really, after being thrown against the mainmast, when Adams and Cooke had been injured, I wasn't any use at all.I was shaky and "jumpy" for days afterwards, and it wasn't till I got back to theVigilantthat I could write this down, and then I had to get everyone who was on board theSallyto help me.It was Scroggs, and after he was killed, Sharpe, who had done it all, and but for them—well—I shouldn't have been able to write about it, or any of us either, for the matter of that.And if, after Scroggs and Sharpe, you asked me to tell you who did next best of the men, I should say the two able seamen who stood to the tiller ropes and steered for that horribly long hour, and did things—right things—at the proper time, even without orders. They hadn't had the excitement of firing back, either, to keep them keen and from getting in a funk. One was John Corder, and the other William Young, and they both got their ratings as leading seamen some time afterwards, and I only wish that my father were a rich man, and could do more for them.CHAPTER VIIMr. Rashleigh takes CommandTired Out—Mr. Trevelyan Assists—A Trying Night—On Board the Ringdove—The Sally in Danger—The Sally Disabled—Dicky is Better—Open Fire!—A Surprise—The Sally is Done ForWritten by Midshipman FordIt must have been some time between seven bells and noon when we found ourselves clear of that hateful channel and the smoke that seemed almost to fill it, and the last of the pirates had given up the chase. We hadn't even enough energy to cheer, but we all wanted to lie down. Not a single one of us had escaped bruises or cuts from bits of splinters, and I know that I felt almost dead, as if I'd been bruised all over—being thrown against the mast, when poor old Scroggs was killed, did that.I would have let the men sleep, but Sharpe shook his head and said that there was too much work to be done, and of course he was right. All the wounded had to be looked after, and the rigging and sails to repair temporarily. When we'd got well away from the island, we found that the wind had begun to go round to the west, and what bothered us most was a plank, under the starboard side of the poop, which had been smashed in when the third junk collided with us. The breeze going round to the west was good, because it brought all the strain on our port rigging, and the fore and main rigging on that side hadn't been injured; but it was bad for us, because it made us heel over to starboard, and this smashed plank kept on going under water and letting a lot in.We had to turn the Sally round into the wind and lower her sails, and stayed like that for nearly an hour, all the time looking to see whether any junks were coming after us, and standing by to scoot off again if they did. But none tried to follow us, and when Sharpe had nailed some canvas and some of the dinghy's broken planks over the hole, we hoisted our sails again and sailed away for the island where we had to meet theRingdove.Ah Chee was plucky enough now, and began to cook something hot for us all over the big brazier. It had been knocked over and emptied, but there were so many bits of wood lying about, that he made a fire out of them. He kept pointing to himself and jabbering, "Ah Chee belong plenty blave fightee man," and then to the island, shaking his fist, "Pilons all same pig."I had crawled under the poop to look at Dicky. I was almost afraid to go there, because I thought I should find that he had stopped breathing; but I watched him very carefully, and could just see his chest moving, and his lips too sometimes, when he breathed in and out. I crept back again, feeling very funny and glad. Adams and Cooke were moaning and groaning, and it was awful not to know the proper thing to do for them. Sharpe had wrapped the two dead men in their blankets and put them down below out of sight, and we had put Adams and Cooke and Dicky in the men's part of the poop, because all the upper part, where Dicky and I and Scroggs and Sharpe had lived, was simply a wreck. My hammock and bedding had been carried halfway through the bulkhead by a shot, which was still fixed in it, and my uniform tin case was almost doubled in half, and I couldn't open it. I know that you will think me an ass, but when I found Ah Man's cake, with only a gash across the icing, I could have whooped with joy, and divided it among the men, leaving a bit for Dicky, if he ever got well—I knew he wouldn't mind. That was the first thing we had to eat after the pirates left off chasing us. You should have seen us drink. I had never been so thirsty in my life, nor the men in theirs either, I should fancy.Our compass had been smashed, but we could guess our course roughly, and Ah Chee knew his way pretty well among the islands, so we didn't worry much about that.We were really too "played out" to worry about anything. By the middle of the afternoon it was blowing very hard, and we were plunging, and shaking, and heeling over so much, that we had to lower the mainsail altogether, and could only carry the foresail hoisted halfway up, and the little mizzen sail. That eased her, and made her much more comfortable, and I should have let the men go to sleep, but Sharpe wouldn't hear of it. "No, sir. It's going to be a dirty night, and we'd best set up that damaged rigging tempor—arily." So he and the four hands—all that were left, if you don't count the two men at the tiller—worked wearily away till it was nearly dark.But long before that I'd gone to sleep myself. I was very ashamed then, and am still ashamed of myself; but I had got into a corner, more or less out of the wind and the spray, propped up between the poop and the side of the junk, close to the men at the helm, and must have simply gone to sleep standing up, and slipped down without knowing it."TheFerretis in sight, sir!" I suddenly heard, and there was Sharpe standing over me, and trying to shake some life into me. "She's asking for news."I hardly dared look at him, because I felt such a "worm", and got on my feet again. At first I thought he meant theVigilant, but it was only Mr. Trevelyan and Jim in their junk. Oh! I felt so stiff and sore, and had to rub my eyes to get properly awake; but then I was frightfully glad, for I thought that Mr. Trevelyan might know something about doctoring. She was slanting down towards us, with only a bit of her mainsail hoisted, and flying some signal."We've given her our name, sir," the signalman said, "and now Mr. Trevelyan wants to know what news you have, sir."I told the signalman what to say, and he semaphored, "Captain to Captain" (that didn't even make me smile, or feel proud, so proves how tired I must have been). "We have sunk one pirate junk, and escaped from four more in the channel between East and West Nam Chau Islands" (we had found the name on the chart, after all). "Petty officer Scroggs killed, two able seamen, Midshipman Morton and able seaman Cooke badly wounded, and able seaman Adams has leg broken."We saw them take it in, and I knew how unhappy Jim would be about Dicky. Then they hoisted a signal which meant "heave to", and we lowered the bit of foresail and swung round, with our mizzen to keep us in the wind, whilst Mr. Trevelyan came lurching down, swung up into the wind just ahead of us, lowered his mainsail, and hoisted a tiny bit of mizzen. I could see them all looking at us, and Jim was standing on the poop waving to me, and I waved back to him. They got out their dinghy and two men, and Mr. Trevelyan began dropping down towards us. We threw them a rope and they caught it, swung in under our stern, and Mr. Trevelyan clambered up over our poor old wrecked poop. It was a jolly tricky thing to do, because a big sea was running. I was so awfully "done up", that I could almost have burst into tears when I saw him. I was never so thankful to see anyone in my life before."Holy Moses! Ford, you've been and smashed up the Skipper's junk, and no mistake! My jumping Jupiter! you must have had a warm time, and you look like a blooming butcher yourself.""It's not mine, sir," I told him; "it's Scroggs's." I had been too tired to wash my face and hands and my clothes, and the spray hadn't done it either; it was all caked and brown by now. I implored him to come and see Dicky and Adams. "I don't know a blooming thing about doctoring," he said, scratching his head, and looking awfully serious; but he picked his way across the smashed-up poop, and where the Maxim gun had been, and we crawled in to see Dicky. He was still unconscious; he wouldn't even look at me, though his eyes were open, and we shouted his name, and every time the junk flopped about, both Adams and Cooke moaned terribly. Mr. Trevelyan did make it more comfortable for them all, because he made us roll Cooke in blankets, so that his legs did not stick together, and he made us tie Adams's legs together to keep the broken one steady; and then we put them in their hammocks and slung them, somehow or other, and after that it didn't hurt them so much when the junk rolled and pitched.All this time I had told Mr. Trevelyan everything, just as I have told you, and he was fearfully excited, and made us show him on the chart exactly where we had been, as far as I could make out. "You have had luck," he kept on saying; "and I'm going to have a go at them." You see, I hadn't really got any information—none worth having—and no prisoners. I had been much too excited to notice anything on the islands themselves, and, as Mr. Trevelyan said, "They might have their whole bally 'fit out' there.""Don't bother about that, you lucky little beggar" (I suppose I looked miserable); "you can't do every blessed thing! Now you shove along to theRingdove, and I'll beat up to your pirates, if my crazy old 'ditcher will face it—she won't sail for nuts, Ford—and just 'makee look see' first thing in the morning. Give old Rashleigh my love, and if I'm not back again by to-morrow night, or the morning after, get him to come along and pick up the scraps."He was just as excited as you can imagine. I wanted him to take back all the Maxim ammunition I had left—of course it was no use to me now—and he jumped at the idea, and we hauled the dinghy under the stern and passed the boxes, with the unused cartridge belts, into her.TheFerrethad dropped down to leeward of us, so that he would not have to pull back to wind'ard; I don't think he could have done so even if he had tried. "Goodbye, my sucking Nelson; keep your pecker up, and I'll give 'em 'beans' in the morning," he said as he slid down into the dinghy. He was always so awfully cheerful and "buckish". "What d'you think of Dicky?" I asked him before he let go. "I'm jiggered if I know!" he shouted. "Get him to theRingdoveand Hibbert as quickly as you can."He was just casting off, when he happened to look up, and sang out to the bow man to hold on. He had seen our white ensign, and shouted out to me: "I say, Ford, let me have that, there's a good chap; you'll have no more fighting, and I'd like it so much." I had it hauled down and passed it into the dinghy, though the signalman wasn't half pleased.Back he went, alongside theFerret. I saw the flag and ammunition boxes and then the dinghy hoisted on board, a man hauled himself up the mizzen and made the flag fast there, and then she hoisted part of the mainsail again and began to pound away back to our islands. We cheered her and she cheered us, and the last shout I heard was a "tiger" from Jim.Then I hoisted the foresail halfway up, and off we went again; and by this time it was nearly dark, and we soon could only make out where theFerretwas by the white splash when she flopped down on top of a sea, and in a very few minutes we couldn't even see that, and felt awfully lonely.I should never have found the way back, and I don't think that Sharpe would have done so either, but for Ah Chee. He was a grand chap, when there wasn't any fighting to be done, and seemed to know every island we passed that night, and just where we could trust ourselves.Sharpe and I had to be on deck nearly all night, it was blowing so hard, and of course there were those islands to avoid. Sharpe wouldn't leave off talking about Scroggs and the family he had left behind him, and that made it more miserable still, that and hearing Adams and Cooke groaning, and knowing that Barton and Hicks, the two men who were killed, were lying down in the hold. We got a little lee from one of the islands some time during the middle watch, so then we made better weather of it. It must have been soon after that when Sharpe woke me—I had fallen asleep again."Who's that?" he cried, his voice all of a shake, and I listened, and all of a sudden could hear someone singing out "Dick" from under the dark poop. All the blood rushed to my head, and I could have blubbed with delight, for it was Dicky's poor little bleating voice; and I crept in with a lantern, picked my way over the men asleep, held up the lantern, and there he was looking at me and asking for a drink. Well, I did blub then—just for a second—and don't mind saying so, I was so happy, and went and found a little water and gave it to him; and Sharpe stirred up the hot bits of wood in Ah Chee's brazier, which the wind had kept glowing, and we warmed some tinned milk and gave that to him. When he'd drunk it he turned over and went to sleep, without asking anything, only just saying, "Thank you".Still, that was enough, and I do believe that Sharpe was a little bit husky too; and I wanted him to let me shove on a little more sail, so that we could get back to theRingdoveall the more quickly, but he wouldn't let me do it. "She's carrying all she can do with, sir, and the men are asleep." He was right, too, because we should have had to turn them out to hoist more sail.Ah Chee knew all right where he was going, and at daybreak we sighted the island at which we had to meet theRingdove, and two hours later saw her three masts and her funny little funnel sticking up.I had signalled across all my news, and you can imagine how thankful I was to run the Sally alongside her, and to see Dr. Hibbert clambering on board us over her "nettings", smoking his pipe and looking jolly."Find my medicine stuff any use?" he asked me."Both bottles were broken, sir," I told him, "so I hadn't the chance," and took him under the poop, and a lot of men came and hoisted all three of the wounded on board theRingdove.Dicky woke up and managed a bit of a smile as they took him away, but he was still dazed and half silly. They took Hicks's and Barton's bodies on board too, and before we went off again buried them overboard.Then Mr. Rashleigh sent for me. He was angry that I hadn't reported to him directly I had come alongside. I told him all that had happened, and how Scroggs had done nearly everything, and when he'd been killed, how Sharpe had practically done everything, and how Mr. Trevelyan had taken all my Maxim ammunition and gone back to have a look at the pirate place himself. The last bit seemed to make him jolly angry, and he muttered something about "confounded disobedience".The wind, too, had gone round to almost due north, so that Mr. Trevelyan couldn't possibly get back for at least three days."That ass Trevelyan would put his head into a lion's mouth, if he thought he could get any news there," he said, and swore angrily. "I'll have to go and haul him out by the feet, and hope the pirates won't have snapped his head off. If they haven't, I will."We had to go back with him, he couldn't leave us there, and as soon as his people had set up some more rigging, and done a bit more to make our poop water-tight, and the stern as well, we had to follow theRingdoveback again. It was a fair wind for us, and we didn't delay her very much. Mr. Rashleigh had offered to let me sleep aboard his gunboat, in order that I could get a good rest; but I had had a jolly good feed in the ward room, and had had a bath, so this made me rather angry. "Just as you like; I don't care a tuppenny biscuit," he said, and gave me another petty officer to take Scroggs's place, so at last Sharpe was able to get a little sleep.I must say that I felt frightened about Jim and Mr. Trevelyan, because neither of them would have thought twice of taking on all the pirates in the world; and they had already had nearly thirty hours to themselves, and I wondered what had been happening. By noon next day we were two miles off the islands, and the channel from which we had escaped; but we had heard or seen nothing of theFerret, and thought that we might possibly have passed her beating back to the rendezvous during the night.Presently someone shouted that they thought they had heard the noise of a gun. Everyone listened, and in a few minutes we could hear three sharp bangs. "That's theFerret'ssix-pounder," someone said, and we were all frightfully excited.TheRingdovesignalled us to follow as fast as possible—she had heard them also—and shoved on for all she was worth.She had all her little sails set, and smoke was pouring out of her funnel.We saw her enter the channel, half a mile ahead of us, and just as she got into the mouth of it, two clouds of white smoke jumped out from the left-hand side, down by the water's edge, we saw two great splashes of water leap up behind her stern, and then came the roar. If you've never heard the roar of a gun, it's awfully difficult to describe it; but with cliffs all round, you can hear the noise smashing up against them with a crash, and rolling about and crashing again."They've got some guns there, sir! Now we've got some information as will please the Captin, sir, when he hears of it, sir, eh?" and Sharpe winked at me.We kept our eyes glued on theRingdove, and saw that she was clearing for action. I have always thought that Mr. Rashleigh might have done that before; and the two guns had reloaded before he could commence firing, and they plugged in two more shots. "One's hit her," the signalman sang out, "close to the foremast, sir." But she didn't seem to be badly damaged, and started off with her four-inch guns (three she had on each side, one on the poop, one in the waist, and one on the fo'c'stle). They made an awful noise in the narrow channel; and we could also hear the rattle and see the spurts of smoke from under her bow and stern, and knew that she was working her Nordenfelt machine guns. "They're digging up the ground all round them pirates' guns," one of my men sang out, though, as far as I could see, most of theRingdove'sshells were falling in the water—at first, at any rate.I couldn't find the guns, but soon the "Ringdoves" made better shooting, and I could then spot them. Just as I had spotted them they fired again. "Short," yelled a man. "Two hundred over," another shouted."They're too much bothered by those 'Ringdoves' to do much aiming, sir," Sharpe said very coolly. Then I began to wonder what would happen whilst we were passing them, and whether theRingdovewould wait for us. She didn't, however, and you can imagine how frightened I was to see her steaming away out of range, and cease firing, after the shore guns had fired another round at her, which fell a long way astern. She was almost hidden in powder smoke too. "They'll just have time to reload before we get abreast of them," I said to Sharpe; and I don't mind telling you that I felt in a horrid funk, and, if there had been no one to know anything about it, should have turned theSallyround and run away."All right, sir!" Sharpe said; he didn't look frightened. "Keep her across as far as you can, and send all of 'em who aren't wanted down below. Mr. Rashleigh will be back in a minute." He took charge of the six-pounder, with one man to help him load, and, "my eye!" he did let off quickly. I sent everyone else down below into the hold except Fergusson and another man, who looked after the tiller tackles, and went amidships myself and stared at those two guns reloading—I couldn't take my eyes off them—and—and—then they began slowly to train round, till I could only see the black muzzles pointing straight at us, with Sharpe's little shells bursting on the ground in front of them. I've told you how frightened I was, so I must tell you that I did not get behind the mainmast. I would have done anything to get there, but something inside me prevented me, and I have been awfully proud that I didn't, ever since.It's bad enough standing behind a big gun and waiting for it to go off, but it was awful standing in front of two; and I felt that they couldn't possibly help hitting me—to say nothing of the junk—because, although we had crept over to the far side of the channel, we were only about four hundred yards away. Then off they went, the smoke and the flashes and the roar, Sharpe's yell, "Look out, sir!" a crash somewhere in our poop, and another crash up above; all seemed to come together."The tiller's smashed, sir! We can't steer," Fergusson shouted, and I saw that one side of the poop had been blown clean out, and the whole of the upper part of the mainsail had fallen down, and the top of the mast with it.Sharpe rushed aft and cut the mizzen halyards, and down that sail came. You must understand that we were sailing very fast before the wind, and, of course, if we had only the foresail set, we should have blown along in more or less of a straight line, but the mizzen made us yaw from side to side.This steadied theSallya little, and we were going to lower the rest of the mainsail too, when there was a tremendous roar, and theRingdovecame splashing back, in between us and the guns, with all her sails flat "aback", and she didn't give those guns a chance to fire again. She ran in quite close, and we could see men running away from them; and then round she turned, still firing, and followed us as we staggered this way and that way up the channel."Lower that cursed fores'l or you'll be ashore," Mr. Rashleigh shouted, "and we'll take you in tow." Jolly coolly he did it, too, and everyone hauled in the grass hawser and made it fast.In five minutes we were out of range."What the furies is the matter?" he shouted from the poop."First shot carried away our tiller," Sharpe shouted."Anybody hurt?""No, sir," he answered. I was too excited to shout.Still there wasn't a sound or sight of Mr. Trevelyan's junk, and we went very slowly up the channel, almost as far as where we had sunk that first pirate junk.Then all of a sudden we could hear the six-pounder banging away somewhere on our left, and the tut—tut, tut—tut of the Maxim, and in a little opening in the rocks I caught sight of the white ensign I had given Mr. Trevelyan, against the dark shore, and could make out theFerretherself, jammed at the foot of some rocks, and people on board waving their arms.TheRingdovehad spotted her as well, and we all cheered and steered straight across towards her—at any rate, theRingdovesteered and we were towed round—and the gunboat dropped her anchor about a hundred yards off.The poor littleFerretwas all over to port. She had only her mizzen mast standing, and was evidently hard and fast on the rocks, right in the middle of a small creek.Mr. Rashleigh went across in the whaler at once, and as he got close to her we could see his boat's crew pulling very fast, and noticed some bullet splashes round the boat, and theFerret'sMaxim spluttered out. We couldn't see what they were firing at, and it was most exciting."Mr. Trevelyan, he's bottled 'em, sir; that's what he's done, sir," Sharpe said. He was busy repairing the tiller, and going about the job as if he was on board theVigilantat Hong-Kong, or Portsmouth, or anywhere else where there was no chance of a scrap.Well, that was just what it turned out to be. Mr. Trevelyan had fetched the mouth of the channel the morning after he had left me, hadn't been fired at by the battery, but had coolly crawled through and examined the shore on each side. He had found this creek, sailed up it right past a bend, and found himself in sight of a dozen or more junks all anchored together. He had carried on and opened fire on them, but found that they were too much for him. He had lost his mainmast, had two men killed when it fell, had to haul out again, and, not being able to avoid the rocks in the middle of the creek, had run hard and fast on them.Jim told me the story, and how they daren't try and get her off again because she had such a big hole in her bottom, and how the junks had tried to come and capture her, but had to come singly, and couldn't face the six-pounder shells and the Maxim, and had drawn back. Last night they had tried to rush them in boats, but Mr. Trevelyan had rigged nets all round, and it blew very hard, and many boats were stove in on the rocks, and the nets and the Maxim gun drove off those that did not get alongside."It was a most awful night, Dick," he said, "but I wouldn't have missed it for the world, now it's all over. And what we should have done without that ammunition you gave us, I don't know."All that day the pirates had been firing rifles at them from both sides of the creek, and only one man at each gun was allowed on deck, and they had had to be changed, because three of them had been wounded. Everyone else had kept down below in the hold, with the dirty water up to their knees."We couldn't have stuck it for another day," Jim told me, "and Mr. Trevelyan was going to attempt to land the guns on one of the bigger rocks, which had some trees on it, that very night, and try and cut them down and make a breastwork of them, and hold out till you came."Mr. Trevelyan had sent him across to that rock during the night to see if it was all right, and he had waded and swam across, and then in the dark slipped down on his way back, and cut himself against the rocks. His hands, and face, and chest, and all over, in fact, were all scratched—great long scratches—and he was so stiff, he could hardly move. He had to be bandaged pretty well all over, but was as happy as anything. "Mr. Trevelyan is a fine chap," he kept on saying. "He's always thinking of some new dodge. It was grand.""What are you firing at?" I asked him. "Can you see the junks from theFerret?""No, they're round the corner, but the cliffs are full of the brutes with rifles."Dr. Hibbert wouldn't let us see Dicky. "He's asleep again," he called out from theRingdove'spoop. "Don't you come aboard, bothering round. He'll do all right." He had a lot of work to do, because one of the "Ringdoves" had been very badly smashed "up" by that shot which had hit her, and four or five of Mr. Trevelyan's men had been more or less badly wounded, and had come across with Jim in the whaler. Dr. Hibbert, and the Paymaster, and the sick-berth attendant were busy in the ward room patching them up.They had got up steam in theRingdove'slittle steam cutter, and Mr. Rashleigh and Mr. Trevelyan steamed up past the rock and out of sight round the corner.TheFerretfired her Maxim and theRingdoveher Nordenfelts to keep down the rifle fire, and they got past the entrance safely and out of sight, but came back very soon.I could see that Mr. Rashleigh was puffing out his cheeks with importance, and that Mr. Trevelyan was looking very vexed about something, as they went aboard theRingdove, and I heard afterwards that Mr. Rashleigh had wanted to steam back to Tinghai at once to report that he had found the headquarters of the pirates. Mr. Trevelyan, however, wanted to burn the pirate junks first, and, if theRingdovewouldn't go in and try, had offered to do the job with her boats.Eventually Mr. Rashleigh gave way, but he wouldn't take theRingdovein till his Sub-lieutenant had surveyed the creek, and he sent him away in the whaler to take soundings, although Mr. Trevelyan swore that there was enough water.The whaler was all right whilst she was in sight, but directly she got round the corner she lost a man wounded, and came hurrying back again. There was another row then; but Mr. Trevelyan had his own way, and a Nordenfelt machine gun was put in the bows of theRingdove'scutter and another in the steamboat, and we saw that they were going to follow the whaler and protect her.Jim and I were supposed to be getting some sleep all this time, but we couldn't—of course we couldn't; and just then Mr. Trevelyan shouted to us that I had to go away in charge of the cutter, and Jim in charge of the steamboat, if we'd had enough sleep. The boats dropped down alongside theSally, and we were aboard in a jiffy, Jim grinning with delight. We shouted that we'd had all the sleep we wanted and were quite wide awake, and shoved off after the whaler, Jim taking me in tow and I taking the whaler astern of me.The steamboat towed us past theFerret, quite close to her. She was an absolute wreck, and all one side looked as though it was smashed in by a big rock. She fired a shell or two to prevent the brutes firing rifles at us from the shore, and the five men left aboard her cheered us. We got past without being fired at, and then we were out of sight of theRingdove, and the steamboat cast us off, and we had to pull in towards the starboard side of the creek and search that with our Nordenfelt, if anyone fired. The steamboat did the same on the other side, and the Sub in the whaler went on taking soundings between us."Cutter!" the Sub had shouted, and I held up my hand (he didn't know my name), "open fire directly you hear rifle shots;" and I sang out, "Ay, ay, sir!" and you may bet we were keen as mustard, and "stood by" with the Nordenfelt's hopper full of one-inch cartridges, and the lever all ready to jerk backwards and forwards.You should have seen us watching the banks. I had borrowed the signalman's field glasses, because my telescope had disappeared in the wreckage of theSally'spoop, and watched every bit of rock or bush, and saw several Chinamen creeping about. They had rifles, but didn't fire them."There's a shot, sir!" cried the coxswain, and I saw a splash near the steamboat, and Jim began banging away with his Nordenfelt, but stopped after he'd fired three times, and we had never another shot fired at us. I was rather pleased. To make up for it, we suddenly came in sight of the whole fleet of pirate junks, and a whole crowd of ordinary junks lying behind them. They weren't more than five hundred yards away, and, when they saw us, began beating drums, and clashing brass things, and yelling, and letting off crackers to frighten us. One of the nearest had her side turned towards us, and began letting off her guns as well, and the din was simply hideous.It was just like going up to a peaceful wasp's nest and stirring it up with a stick.We were both close to the whaler, and the little round shot began to come rather too near. I heard Jim shout, "Couldn't we go for them, sir?" and my boat's crew bent forward to be ready for a spurt; but the Sub, who was standing up in the whaler, shook his head, and ordered Jim to take us in tow again. He looked as if he'd jolly well like to have tried, but he had to obey orders."There's enough bally water for an ironclad," he shouted, "all the way up, but we must go back, or it'll be too late for theRingdoveto do anything."So back we went again, the men pulling their oars to make it easier for the steamboat, and the round shot bobbing about in the water astern of us, till we'd got out of sight.But Mr. Rashleigh wouldn't move for anything the Sub or Mr. Trevelyan said to him. It would be dark in half an hour, and he wasn't going to risk anything in the dark, and would wait for daylight. I was ordered to take my cutter alongside theFerret, and transfer her guns and stores to theRingdove. This took nearly two hours in the dark, and Mr. Trevelyan came in charge. He was simply bubbling over with anger. "She's got a searchlight, and the oldVigilantcould go up there without winking. I bet 'Old Lest' would have cleared out the whole blooming crowd by now. My aunt! fancy wasting the whole jumping day! Call himself Rashleigh! My blessed grandmother!" and he spat in the water to show his contempt.The last thing I took away was my white ensign, and although it was nighttime, I hoisted it on board the Sally again. It had several bullet holes through it, and was torn and looked jolly warworn. I thought even then that I'd keep it—if the signalman didn't collar it himself—for my mother, or perhaps give it to Nan when I got home.We had cast off from theRingdove, and had anchored close to her. My orders were to make the cutter "fast" along-side, man it in the morning with all theSally'screw who were left, and follow theRingdoveup the creek directly it was light.I was very excited, but managed to find some place to lie down, and slept jolly well, which only shows how very tired I must have been.Sharpe woke me at six, half an hour before sunrise. We all had some hot cocoa and some biscuit, and then we got as many rifles and revolvers and cutlasses as we could find, and filled the Gardner's hopper with cartridges. We crept about in the dark without making any noise, could presently hear the hands "turning out" aboard theRingdove, and took our places in the cutter and waited to shove her off. When it was light enough to just see the rocks, Mr. Rashleigh called out that he was not going to weigh for another half-hour, and there we had to sit, and the longer we waited the less brave we felt—at any rate, I felt. I don't believe that anyone can feel brave on a dark cold morning.It seemed like hours before we heard her cable "clanking in", and that woke us up again with a funny, cold feeling, and in a few minutes the water under her stern began to swirl, and she started very slowly for the entrance, and we pulled away from theSallyafter her.Then there came a surprise, if you like. My aunt! it did startle us.Right on top of the cliffs, over our heads, a terrific roar broke out, and splash went a shot right under theRingdove'sstern, and the water fell right aboard her."They've hauled a gun up there—on the right, sir," Sharpe said very quietly, and somehow or other I felt certain that this would decide Mr. Rashleigh not to go up that creek. I am certain that he never really wanted to go there.He yelled to me to come alongside, and then he yelled for me to go back to theSally, cut her cable, and clear out of it.I was very frightened, and hurried back to theSally—Ah Chee was the only one aboard her—when another roar came from above, the shot fell between theRingdoveand ourselves, and wetted us all. I saw theRingdovehurrying towards the foot of the cliffs, where the gun couldn't touch her."We must be nippy, sir," Sharpe said, very excitedly for him.Just as we were going to run alongside, someone sang out, "What on earth's that, sir?" pointing to a small rock on the other side of the creek. We all looked, and could see someone standing there and waving his arms. "He's trying to semaphore," several men cried, and a moment after, "It's Lootenant Travers, sir."None of us thought of that gun then, and we shoved off towards him as hard as we could—there were only six of us in a ten-oared cutter—and gave a shout."Swim towards us, sir," I yelled, as we got closer and bullets came round, though I didn't really notice them much. There was a Chinaman with him, and they both waded out as far as they could, and we grabbed them and hauled them in, and pulled back again with another shout, Mr. Travers taking one of the spare oars, and the Chinaman, who was almost dead of fright, hiding under the gunwale.As we hauled Travers on board he asked, "Have you found Sally Hobbs?" but I shook my head, and hadn't time to think what that all meant, and shouted to Sharpe, "Cut the anchor rope directly we get aboard and hoist the fores'l." I needn't have troubled, because that gun above us fired again, and we saw the stump of poor littleSally'smainmast come toppling down, big pieces of her deck went flying about, and she began to heel over as we ran alongside. Mr. Travers and I jumped aboard, but I saw that she was done for. Her deck was absolutely smashed up amidships, the six-pounder had fallen on top of the cartridge boxes in the hold, and water was bubbling up through two great holes in her bottom."We shall have to leave her, sha'n't we, sir?" I asked.But there was no doubt of it, and I only just had time to haul down the white ensign and get back into the boat and shove off, before she settled right down, and with a bubbling noise slid under."'Twill drown all them cursed bugs and cockroaches what's been biting at us, curse 'em!" Sharpe said coolly, and we shoved off for the gunboat under the cliff. You bet that Ah Chee had jumped into the cutter directly we'd got alongside!TheRingdovewas waiting for us, and we were all aboard in five minutes. She sneaked out round the foot of the cliffs—Mr. Rashleigh didn't wait to take soundings now—ran out of the channel past where the two guns had been, without being fired at, and started off for Tinghai.I saw Mr. Rashleigh rubbing his hands, and heard him chuckling, "I've rescued Travers, and the 'Old Man' will be jolly pleased." He seemed to be awfully proud of himself, but Mr. Trevelyan told Jim angrily: "Of course the Skipper will be pleased; everyone knows that; but he might have burnt the whole nest of them as well, wiped out the whole boiling crowd, if he'd only had the pluck to go in yesterday. Instead of which he gives those chaps time to haul their guns up over his head, where he can't touch it. Confound him!"Mr. Travers came up on deck soon afterwards, shaved and clean, with some of the Sub's plain clothes on. He shook my hand. "Long time since you shoved me in the back in that crowd outside the Mission House, Ford. Thought they would have plugged some of you in that boat. They were firing pretty fast." That was tremendously demonstrative for him.It was jolly good to have got him back safely, but we were all awfully disappointed that we hadn't found where Sally and her father were. We had thought we had done so, but he told us they weren't there, and he hadn't the faintest idea where they were. The Chinaman who'd helped him to escape, and had come along for his reward, didn't know anything about them either. Ah Chee found this out.Dicky was a jolly lot better, and could talk, but hadn't the faintest remembrance of anything after we'd sighted those four junks beating up to wind'ard after us. He remembered the junk running away from us and the masts coming down, but nothing after that.Dr. Hibbert wouldn't let him talk to us much. Poor Cooke died before we had got out of sight of land, and we stopped our engines and buried him at sea.That brought the killed ones in the two junks up to six—two of Jim's and four of mine—and there were six wounded besides Dicky.I managed to hide away the ensign before the signalman could claim it, and felt rather a beast; but I meant to keep it and get it home—some day. Jim lent me another monkey jacket. It was quite "sopping" wet, but it was clean, and we soon dried it, so that I looked more respectable, and didn't feel so horrid as I had felt in my bloodstained one.
The battle between the Sally and the piratesThe battle between the Sally and the pirates
The battle between the Sally and the pirates
We put up our helm and flew away down wind, and left her standing still, all her sails shaking, and in any amount of confusion.
"Well done, sir!" Sharpe shouted from aloft, and that seemed to wake me again, and Dicky and his Maxim gun's crew were yelling with delight, and then everybody cheered because the second junk wouldn't face us, but luffed up and popped off her guns. She was too unsteady, or too much in a hurry, and we were going too fast, to give her a chance of hitting us. "Passed two of 'em, sir," Sharpe sang out cheerily; "get those stink things overboard, sir." That was the first thing which made me notice that I'd been coughing, and choking, and running at the eyes, and that there was a horrid smell.
There was a round basketwork thing spluttering and fizzing, and the beastly stinking smoke coming out of it, lying jammed in a corner close to me. I got it overboard somehow, and heard it fizzle as it fell in the water—ugh! the stink was awful. The others which had come on board were got rid of somehow or other—the men had thrown them or they had rolled overboard—but everyone was coughing and wiping their eyes, especially the six-pounder gun's crew, who were to leeward, and so had got most of the smoke.
When I could see out of my eyes properly, there was Dicky grinning at me from the poop, and I did really think, at the time, too, that he must have either gone off his head or was actually enjoying himself. The two junks which we had passed were coming along after us now; the first one was a long way astern, and the second broad on our port quarter. Fergusson had got the smoke out of his eyes too, and began banging at this cowardly second one; and we could see that she was trying to edge away out of range of his shells.
But now we were rushing down towards the last two junks. They were lashing along on the port tack, heeling over till we could almost see their keels, and were coming straight towards us on the other side—to starboard (our right-hand side). I couldn't see them at all from the high poop because our sails were in the way, so went down close to the men steering, and could then see them by looking under the foot of the mainsail. Sharpe came and stood by me, and I didn't feel so nervous.
The nearer one was about a hundred yards off.
"Wait a little, sir! Wait a little!" Sharpe said. We were both peering under the sail, and Dicky had gone for'ard to see if he could get the six-pounder to fire. "When she's a leetil bit closer, turn away from her, sir."
There was only fifty yards between us now, and we were rushing to meet at a point.
Thirty yards! Twenty yards! I couldn't breathe. They yelled and shook their arms about; we could see them all clinging to the weather gunwale.
I looked at Sharpe. "Now, sir!" he cried, and I sang out, "Starboard!" and our bows slewed away from her.
"Haul in the sheet, sir! Quick, sir! or she'll be on to us and carry away the sails," and everyone jumped to the sheets and began hauling in the huge booms of the foresail and mainsail. TheSallyheeled over, with the wind on her beam, and seemed almost to give a leap through the water. We thought that we should just shoot past the third junk, and were going to cheer, but the next thing I knew (the sails hid her now) there was a bump, and the junk suddenly appeared right on top of us. I was flung down—we all were—theSallyseemed to rebound, and there was another crash under her poop. I bent my head down, expecting the masts and sails to come toppling on top of me; but she must have only struck us grazing blows, because they didn't, and when I looked up again we had cleared her. "For God's sake, ease off those sheets!" Sharpe yelled, "or we'll gybe," and I had enough sense left to know that if we did gybe we should either capsize or carry away all our damaged starboard main rigging and lose our masts. The men at the helm scrambled to their feet, and had enough wit left to "starboard" a little. The sails were just shaking, uncertain whether they would swing right across to port, but that extra bit of starboard helm just did the trick and saved her. They were all too busy with the sheets to fire the Maxim or the six-pounder, and the next I knew was a roaring hot noise right in our faces—she had fired her broadside at us. My head and ears seemed banged in, and I shut my eyes, wondering where I should be hit. Then I heard Sharpe yell, "Mr. Morton's down, sir!" and I opened them to see Dicky lying on the deck where the dinghy had been, with his face and head covered with blood. I forgot about everything else, and jumped across to him, and tried to stop the blood with my dirty handkerchief, and make him say something; but Sharpe sang out, "For God's sake, sir, look where you're going!" and I heard the most awful noise of yelling under our port bow, and there was the fourth junk, towering above us and rasping along our side. I was knocked over again. I saw some iron things, like grapnels, thrown on board, with ropes fastened to them. One near me caught in the starboard gunwale, but jerked itself free; another missed the main rigging, but two caught somewhere on the poop, and I could see the lines on them tautening and the pirate junk turning after us, to ease the strain.
There was a horrid feeling that theSallywasn't going so fast. Sharpe rushed past me with an axe in his hand, and I found myself on the poop next to him. He was hacking away with all his might, and cut through one rope; but there was the other grappling iron, caught in the damaged woodwork, and it had about six feet of chain secured to it, and he couldn't break that. He hacked and hacked, and we all tried to pull the grappling iron itself free, but couldn't move it, because the crew of the junk were hauling on the rope at the other end of the chain, and there was a tremendous strain on it; the rope and chain were as taut as a bar.
"HE HACKED AND HACKED""HE HACKED AND HACKED"
"HE HACKED AND HACKED"
I can't quite tell you what happened for the next few seconds; they seemed like years.
The third junk was firing her broadside guns, and the one that had got hold of us was firing rifles; and we were covered with smoke, and could hear woodwork smashing somewhere all round us, and how it was we were not all killed I don't know to this day.
"I can't do it; God help us, sir!" Sharpe groaned, and left off hacking at the chain, and began to try and cut away the side of the poop where the grappling iron had fixed itself; but the edge of the axe was all blunted, and would hardly even cut wood. It was perfectly awful, and you could see the cruel brutes in the bows of the fourth junk hauling in the rope, hand over hand. They thought that they had caught us, and were making the most tremendous noise, shouting and yelling.
They had hauled themselves to within twenty feet of us, and would be alongside in another few seconds. We could see them crowding for'ard, waving swords, and getting ready to pour on board. They began throwing stink balls, too, but these fell into the water, or, at any rate, we were too terrified to notice them.
I suddenly wondered why the Maxim wasn't working—I'd not thought of it—and looked round and saw why. It was all battered in a heap, and two of its crew were lying underneath it.
I don't know what I did, or quite what happened then, but I found myself under the poop, hunting among all the wreckage for my revolver.
I didn't find it, but got hold of a cutlass and was rushing up again, when I heard Sharpe give a yell of joy, and was just in time to see that awful rope "part", and the people in the bows of the pirate junk fall on their backs in a heap.
"We're away, sir!" Sharpe shouted, and, darting for'ard to the six-pounder, sang out to the men steering to turn her round a little, and fired four times right into the pirate's bows.
They came round, too, and fired their guns at us; but we were beyond worrying about gunshots now, after all we'd been through, and paid off again before the wind, the third and the fourth junks following us close behind, and the first two a long way behind.
My head was simply going round and round, and my ears were ringing and buzzing. We were still in a cloud of powder smoke from the junks, and our poop was a perfect wreck.
I had time to look round now—the Maxim gun was lying there, knocked to pieces, the two men near it were quite dead, horribly smashed up one was, and there was hardly an undamaged plank to be seen. The native boat hanging over our stern had been smashed to pieces, and the wreckage of it was trailing in the water. We cut it adrift. Bits of wood and sail and rope were lying all over the decks, and up above our sails were full of holes. The main gaff was hanging down and beating against the sail, and tearing long strips out of it; but the mast still stood, and the rudder wasn't damaged, and we were simply roaring through the water again.
Then the third junk began creeping up on our starboard quarter, not overhauling us very fast, which showed that our speed wasn't much decreased; and directly the six-pounder would bear, Sharpe, who had taken charge of it, began firing into her, and hit her several times. We could see her trying to edge away.
Right astern was the fourth junk, and half a mile astern the first and second. The third and the fourth kept on yawing, so that they could bring their guns to bear and fire at us, but lost ground doing this, and only made a few more holes in our sails.
My people began to cheer—the seven who were left—because the open sea showed right in front of us; and then they cheered more loudly, because the first junk, which seemed to be very low in the water, suddenly shot up into the wind, the second junk, which had always given us a wide berth, followed her, and both of them began tacking over to the island.
That left us only two to tackle—the fourth, which was about three hundred yards astern, and the third, which was broad on our starboard quarter, but was edging away to try and get out of range of Sharpe's little shells, and was quite out of it, as far as her own guns were concerned.
But before she could get out of range, something happened which made her gybe badly—we were all running before the wind, you must remember. Whether Sharpe had smashed her steering gear or not, I don't know, but, at any rate, she lowered her foresail and hauled into the wind as if to repair something, and lost a great deal of ground before she paid off, and came after us again.
Something, whatever it was, must have been very badly damaged, for she hauled her wind again; and the fourth did so too, sailing close up to her, and then—hurrah! how we cheered!—they both began beating to wind'ard towards the island, and we were left alone.
I don't know how the men felt, but I felt giddy and weak and horribly sick, and had to hold myself up against the mizzen mast, because my knees trembled so much, and my head was splitting, and my mouth felt absolutely dry, and my ears were all buzzing and humming, and very painful.
I jumped down to Dicky; he was lying just where he'd fallen, and he was quite unconscious, and had an awful gash across the side of his head. Some splinter must have struck him.
The signalman said he knew something about "first aid", and brought the "first aid" bag, and bandaged him up, and wiped the blood off his face, and we brought him aft.
Please don't think that I was cool enough to have written this down right on the spot. I couldn't possibly have done it. Everything went so fast, that you had no time for thinking, and really, after being thrown against the mainmast, when Adams and Cooke had been injured, I wasn't any use at all.
I was shaky and "jumpy" for days afterwards, and it wasn't till I got back to theVigilantthat I could write this down, and then I had to get everyone who was on board theSallyto help me.
It was Scroggs, and after he was killed, Sharpe, who had done it all, and but for them—well—I shouldn't have been able to write about it, or any of us either, for the matter of that.
And if, after Scroggs and Sharpe, you asked me to tell you who did next best of the men, I should say the two able seamen who stood to the tiller ropes and steered for that horribly long hour, and did things—right things—at the proper time, even without orders. They hadn't had the excitement of firing back, either, to keep them keen and from getting in a funk. One was John Corder, and the other William Young, and they both got their ratings as leading seamen some time afterwards, and I only wish that my father were a rich man, and could do more for them.
CHAPTER VII
Mr. Rashleigh takes Command
Tired Out—Mr. Trevelyan Assists—A Trying Night—On Board the Ringdove—The Sally in Danger—The Sally Disabled—Dicky is Better—Open Fire!—A Surprise—The Sally is Done For
Tired Out—Mr. Trevelyan Assists—A Trying Night—On Board the Ringdove—The Sally in Danger—The Sally Disabled—Dicky is Better—Open Fire!—A Surprise—The Sally is Done For
Tired Out—Mr. Trevelyan Assists—A Trying Night—On Board the Ringdove—The Sally in Danger—The Sally Disabled—Dicky is Better—Open Fire!—A Surprise—The Sally is Done For
Written by Midshipman Ford
It must have been some time between seven bells and noon when we found ourselves clear of that hateful channel and the smoke that seemed almost to fill it, and the last of the pirates had given up the chase. We hadn't even enough energy to cheer, but we all wanted to lie down. Not a single one of us had escaped bruises or cuts from bits of splinters, and I know that I felt almost dead, as if I'd been bruised all over—being thrown against the mast, when poor old Scroggs was killed, did that.
I would have let the men sleep, but Sharpe shook his head and said that there was too much work to be done, and of course he was right. All the wounded had to be looked after, and the rigging and sails to repair temporarily. When we'd got well away from the island, we found that the wind had begun to go round to the west, and what bothered us most was a plank, under the starboard side of the poop, which had been smashed in when the third junk collided with us. The breeze going round to the west was good, because it brought all the strain on our port rigging, and the fore and main rigging on that side hadn't been injured; but it was bad for us, because it made us heel over to starboard, and this smashed plank kept on going under water and letting a lot in.
We had to turn the Sally round into the wind and lower her sails, and stayed like that for nearly an hour, all the time looking to see whether any junks were coming after us, and standing by to scoot off again if they did. But none tried to follow us, and when Sharpe had nailed some canvas and some of the dinghy's broken planks over the hole, we hoisted our sails again and sailed away for the island where we had to meet theRingdove.
Ah Chee was plucky enough now, and began to cook something hot for us all over the big brazier. It had been knocked over and emptied, but there were so many bits of wood lying about, that he made a fire out of them. He kept pointing to himself and jabbering, "Ah Chee belong plenty blave fightee man," and then to the island, shaking his fist, "Pilons all same pig."
I had crawled under the poop to look at Dicky. I was almost afraid to go there, because I thought I should find that he had stopped breathing; but I watched him very carefully, and could just see his chest moving, and his lips too sometimes, when he breathed in and out. I crept back again, feeling very funny and glad. Adams and Cooke were moaning and groaning, and it was awful not to know the proper thing to do for them. Sharpe had wrapped the two dead men in their blankets and put them down below out of sight, and we had put Adams and Cooke and Dicky in the men's part of the poop, because all the upper part, where Dicky and I and Scroggs and Sharpe had lived, was simply a wreck. My hammock and bedding had been carried halfway through the bulkhead by a shot, which was still fixed in it, and my uniform tin case was almost doubled in half, and I couldn't open it. I know that you will think me an ass, but when I found Ah Man's cake, with only a gash across the icing, I could have whooped with joy, and divided it among the men, leaving a bit for Dicky, if he ever got well—I knew he wouldn't mind. That was the first thing we had to eat after the pirates left off chasing us. You should have seen us drink. I had never been so thirsty in my life, nor the men in theirs either, I should fancy.
Our compass had been smashed, but we could guess our course roughly, and Ah Chee knew his way pretty well among the islands, so we didn't worry much about that.
We were really too "played out" to worry about anything. By the middle of the afternoon it was blowing very hard, and we were plunging, and shaking, and heeling over so much, that we had to lower the mainsail altogether, and could only carry the foresail hoisted halfway up, and the little mizzen sail. That eased her, and made her much more comfortable, and I should have let the men go to sleep, but Sharpe wouldn't hear of it. "No, sir. It's going to be a dirty night, and we'd best set up that damaged rigging tempor—arily." So he and the four hands—all that were left, if you don't count the two men at the tiller—worked wearily away till it was nearly dark.
But long before that I'd gone to sleep myself. I was very ashamed then, and am still ashamed of myself; but I had got into a corner, more or less out of the wind and the spray, propped up between the poop and the side of the junk, close to the men at the helm, and must have simply gone to sleep standing up, and slipped down without knowing it.
"TheFerretis in sight, sir!" I suddenly heard, and there was Sharpe standing over me, and trying to shake some life into me. "She's asking for news."
I hardly dared look at him, because I felt such a "worm", and got on my feet again. At first I thought he meant theVigilant, but it was only Mr. Trevelyan and Jim in their junk. Oh! I felt so stiff and sore, and had to rub my eyes to get properly awake; but then I was frightfully glad, for I thought that Mr. Trevelyan might know something about doctoring. She was slanting down towards us, with only a bit of her mainsail hoisted, and flying some signal.
"We've given her our name, sir," the signalman said, "and now Mr. Trevelyan wants to know what news you have, sir."
I told the signalman what to say, and he semaphored, "Captain to Captain" (that didn't even make me smile, or feel proud, so proves how tired I must have been). "We have sunk one pirate junk, and escaped from four more in the channel between East and West Nam Chau Islands" (we had found the name on the chart, after all). "Petty officer Scroggs killed, two able seamen, Midshipman Morton and able seaman Cooke badly wounded, and able seaman Adams has leg broken."
We saw them take it in, and I knew how unhappy Jim would be about Dicky. Then they hoisted a signal which meant "heave to", and we lowered the bit of foresail and swung round, with our mizzen to keep us in the wind, whilst Mr. Trevelyan came lurching down, swung up into the wind just ahead of us, lowered his mainsail, and hoisted a tiny bit of mizzen. I could see them all looking at us, and Jim was standing on the poop waving to me, and I waved back to him. They got out their dinghy and two men, and Mr. Trevelyan began dropping down towards us. We threw them a rope and they caught it, swung in under our stern, and Mr. Trevelyan clambered up over our poor old wrecked poop. It was a jolly tricky thing to do, because a big sea was running. I was so awfully "done up", that I could almost have burst into tears when I saw him. I was never so thankful to see anyone in my life before.
"Holy Moses! Ford, you've been and smashed up the Skipper's junk, and no mistake! My jumping Jupiter! you must have had a warm time, and you look like a blooming butcher yourself."
"It's not mine, sir," I told him; "it's Scroggs's." I had been too tired to wash my face and hands and my clothes, and the spray hadn't done it either; it was all caked and brown by now. I implored him to come and see Dicky and Adams. "I don't know a blooming thing about doctoring," he said, scratching his head, and looking awfully serious; but he picked his way across the smashed-up poop, and where the Maxim gun had been, and we crawled in to see Dicky. He was still unconscious; he wouldn't even look at me, though his eyes were open, and we shouted his name, and every time the junk flopped about, both Adams and Cooke moaned terribly. Mr. Trevelyan did make it more comfortable for them all, because he made us roll Cooke in blankets, so that his legs did not stick together, and he made us tie Adams's legs together to keep the broken one steady; and then we put them in their hammocks and slung them, somehow or other, and after that it didn't hurt them so much when the junk rolled and pitched.
All this time I had told Mr. Trevelyan everything, just as I have told you, and he was fearfully excited, and made us show him on the chart exactly where we had been, as far as I could make out. "You have had luck," he kept on saying; "and I'm going to have a go at them." You see, I hadn't really got any information—none worth having—and no prisoners. I had been much too excited to notice anything on the islands themselves, and, as Mr. Trevelyan said, "They might have their whole bally 'fit out' there."
"Don't bother about that, you lucky little beggar" (I suppose I looked miserable); "you can't do every blessed thing! Now you shove along to theRingdove, and I'll beat up to your pirates, if my crazy old 'ditcher will face it—she won't sail for nuts, Ford—and just 'makee look see' first thing in the morning. Give old Rashleigh my love, and if I'm not back again by to-morrow night, or the morning after, get him to come along and pick up the scraps."
He was just as excited as you can imagine. I wanted him to take back all the Maxim ammunition I had left—of course it was no use to me now—and he jumped at the idea, and we hauled the dinghy under the stern and passed the boxes, with the unused cartridge belts, into her.
TheFerrethad dropped down to leeward of us, so that he would not have to pull back to wind'ard; I don't think he could have done so even if he had tried. "Goodbye, my sucking Nelson; keep your pecker up, and I'll give 'em 'beans' in the morning," he said as he slid down into the dinghy. He was always so awfully cheerful and "buckish". "What d'you think of Dicky?" I asked him before he let go. "I'm jiggered if I know!" he shouted. "Get him to theRingdoveand Hibbert as quickly as you can."
He was just casting off, when he happened to look up, and sang out to the bow man to hold on. He had seen our white ensign, and shouted out to me: "I say, Ford, let me have that, there's a good chap; you'll have no more fighting, and I'd like it so much." I had it hauled down and passed it into the dinghy, though the signalman wasn't half pleased.
Back he went, alongside theFerret. I saw the flag and ammunition boxes and then the dinghy hoisted on board, a man hauled himself up the mizzen and made the flag fast there, and then she hoisted part of the mainsail again and began to pound away back to our islands. We cheered her and she cheered us, and the last shout I heard was a "tiger" from Jim.
Then I hoisted the foresail halfway up, and off we went again; and by this time it was nearly dark, and we soon could only make out where theFerretwas by the white splash when she flopped down on top of a sea, and in a very few minutes we couldn't even see that, and felt awfully lonely.
I should never have found the way back, and I don't think that Sharpe would have done so either, but for Ah Chee. He was a grand chap, when there wasn't any fighting to be done, and seemed to know every island we passed that night, and just where we could trust ourselves.
Sharpe and I had to be on deck nearly all night, it was blowing so hard, and of course there were those islands to avoid. Sharpe wouldn't leave off talking about Scroggs and the family he had left behind him, and that made it more miserable still, that and hearing Adams and Cooke groaning, and knowing that Barton and Hicks, the two men who were killed, were lying down in the hold. We got a little lee from one of the islands some time during the middle watch, so then we made better weather of it. It must have been soon after that when Sharpe woke me—I had fallen asleep again.
"Who's that?" he cried, his voice all of a shake, and I listened, and all of a sudden could hear someone singing out "Dick" from under the dark poop. All the blood rushed to my head, and I could have blubbed with delight, for it was Dicky's poor little bleating voice; and I crept in with a lantern, picked my way over the men asleep, held up the lantern, and there he was looking at me and asking for a drink. Well, I did blub then—just for a second—and don't mind saying so, I was so happy, and went and found a little water and gave it to him; and Sharpe stirred up the hot bits of wood in Ah Chee's brazier, which the wind had kept glowing, and we warmed some tinned milk and gave that to him. When he'd drunk it he turned over and went to sleep, without asking anything, only just saying, "Thank you".
Still, that was enough, and I do believe that Sharpe was a little bit husky too; and I wanted him to let me shove on a little more sail, so that we could get back to theRingdoveall the more quickly, but he wouldn't let me do it. "She's carrying all she can do with, sir, and the men are asleep." He was right, too, because we should have had to turn them out to hoist more sail.
Ah Chee knew all right where he was going, and at daybreak we sighted the island at which we had to meet theRingdove, and two hours later saw her three masts and her funny little funnel sticking up.
I had signalled across all my news, and you can imagine how thankful I was to run the Sally alongside her, and to see Dr. Hibbert clambering on board us over her "nettings", smoking his pipe and looking jolly.
"Find my medicine stuff any use?" he asked me.
"Both bottles were broken, sir," I told him, "so I hadn't the chance," and took him under the poop, and a lot of men came and hoisted all three of the wounded on board theRingdove.
Dicky woke up and managed a bit of a smile as they took him away, but he was still dazed and half silly. They took Hicks's and Barton's bodies on board too, and before we went off again buried them overboard.
Then Mr. Rashleigh sent for me. He was angry that I hadn't reported to him directly I had come alongside. I told him all that had happened, and how Scroggs had done nearly everything, and when he'd been killed, how Sharpe had practically done everything, and how Mr. Trevelyan had taken all my Maxim ammunition and gone back to have a look at the pirate place himself. The last bit seemed to make him jolly angry, and he muttered something about "confounded disobedience".
The wind, too, had gone round to almost due north, so that Mr. Trevelyan couldn't possibly get back for at least three days.
"That ass Trevelyan would put his head into a lion's mouth, if he thought he could get any news there," he said, and swore angrily. "I'll have to go and haul him out by the feet, and hope the pirates won't have snapped his head off. If they haven't, I will."
We had to go back with him, he couldn't leave us there, and as soon as his people had set up some more rigging, and done a bit more to make our poop water-tight, and the stern as well, we had to follow theRingdoveback again. It was a fair wind for us, and we didn't delay her very much. Mr. Rashleigh had offered to let me sleep aboard his gunboat, in order that I could get a good rest; but I had had a jolly good feed in the ward room, and had had a bath, so this made me rather angry. "Just as you like; I don't care a tuppenny biscuit," he said, and gave me another petty officer to take Scroggs's place, so at last Sharpe was able to get a little sleep.
I must say that I felt frightened about Jim and Mr. Trevelyan, because neither of them would have thought twice of taking on all the pirates in the world; and they had already had nearly thirty hours to themselves, and I wondered what had been happening. By noon next day we were two miles off the islands, and the channel from which we had escaped; but we had heard or seen nothing of theFerret, and thought that we might possibly have passed her beating back to the rendezvous during the night.
Presently someone shouted that they thought they had heard the noise of a gun. Everyone listened, and in a few minutes we could hear three sharp bangs. "That's theFerret'ssix-pounder," someone said, and we were all frightfully excited.
TheRingdovesignalled us to follow as fast as possible—she had heard them also—and shoved on for all she was worth.
She had all her little sails set, and smoke was pouring out of her funnel.
We saw her enter the channel, half a mile ahead of us, and just as she got into the mouth of it, two clouds of white smoke jumped out from the left-hand side, down by the water's edge, we saw two great splashes of water leap up behind her stern, and then came the roar. If you've never heard the roar of a gun, it's awfully difficult to describe it; but with cliffs all round, you can hear the noise smashing up against them with a crash, and rolling about and crashing again.
"They've got some guns there, sir! Now we've got some information as will please the Captin, sir, when he hears of it, sir, eh?" and Sharpe winked at me.
We kept our eyes glued on theRingdove, and saw that she was clearing for action. I have always thought that Mr. Rashleigh might have done that before; and the two guns had reloaded before he could commence firing, and they plugged in two more shots. "One's hit her," the signalman sang out, "close to the foremast, sir." But she didn't seem to be badly damaged, and started off with her four-inch guns (three she had on each side, one on the poop, one in the waist, and one on the fo'c'stle). They made an awful noise in the narrow channel; and we could also hear the rattle and see the spurts of smoke from under her bow and stern, and knew that she was working her Nordenfelt machine guns. "They're digging up the ground all round them pirates' guns," one of my men sang out, though, as far as I could see, most of theRingdove'sshells were falling in the water—at first, at any rate.
I couldn't find the guns, but soon the "Ringdoves" made better shooting, and I could then spot them. Just as I had spotted them they fired again. "Short," yelled a man. "Two hundred over," another shouted.
"They're too much bothered by those 'Ringdoves' to do much aiming, sir," Sharpe said very coolly. Then I began to wonder what would happen whilst we were passing them, and whether theRingdovewould wait for us. She didn't, however, and you can imagine how frightened I was to see her steaming away out of range, and cease firing, after the shore guns had fired another round at her, which fell a long way astern. She was almost hidden in powder smoke too. "They'll just have time to reload before we get abreast of them," I said to Sharpe; and I don't mind telling you that I felt in a horrid funk, and, if there had been no one to know anything about it, should have turned theSallyround and run away.
"All right, sir!" Sharpe said; he didn't look frightened. "Keep her across as far as you can, and send all of 'em who aren't wanted down below. Mr. Rashleigh will be back in a minute." He took charge of the six-pounder, with one man to help him load, and, "my eye!" he did let off quickly. I sent everyone else down below into the hold except Fergusson and another man, who looked after the tiller tackles, and went amidships myself and stared at those two guns reloading—I couldn't take my eyes off them—and—and—then they began slowly to train round, till I could only see the black muzzles pointing straight at us, with Sharpe's little shells bursting on the ground in front of them. I've told you how frightened I was, so I must tell you that I did not get behind the mainmast. I would have done anything to get there, but something inside me prevented me, and I have been awfully proud that I didn't, ever since.
It's bad enough standing behind a big gun and waiting for it to go off, but it was awful standing in front of two; and I felt that they couldn't possibly help hitting me—to say nothing of the junk—because, although we had crept over to the far side of the channel, we were only about four hundred yards away. Then off they went, the smoke and the flashes and the roar, Sharpe's yell, "Look out, sir!" a crash somewhere in our poop, and another crash up above; all seemed to come together.
"The tiller's smashed, sir! We can't steer," Fergusson shouted, and I saw that one side of the poop had been blown clean out, and the whole of the upper part of the mainsail had fallen down, and the top of the mast with it.
Sharpe rushed aft and cut the mizzen halyards, and down that sail came. You must understand that we were sailing very fast before the wind, and, of course, if we had only the foresail set, we should have blown along in more or less of a straight line, but the mizzen made us yaw from side to side.
This steadied theSallya little, and we were going to lower the rest of the mainsail too, when there was a tremendous roar, and theRingdovecame splashing back, in between us and the guns, with all her sails flat "aback", and she didn't give those guns a chance to fire again. She ran in quite close, and we could see men running away from them; and then round she turned, still firing, and followed us as we staggered this way and that way up the channel.
"Lower that cursed fores'l or you'll be ashore," Mr. Rashleigh shouted, "and we'll take you in tow." Jolly coolly he did it, too, and everyone hauled in the grass hawser and made it fast.
In five minutes we were out of range.
"What the furies is the matter?" he shouted from the poop.
"First shot carried away our tiller," Sharpe shouted.
"Anybody hurt?"
"No, sir," he answered. I was too excited to shout.
Still there wasn't a sound or sight of Mr. Trevelyan's junk, and we went very slowly up the channel, almost as far as where we had sunk that first pirate junk.
Then all of a sudden we could hear the six-pounder banging away somewhere on our left, and the tut—tut, tut—tut of the Maxim, and in a little opening in the rocks I caught sight of the white ensign I had given Mr. Trevelyan, against the dark shore, and could make out theFerretherself, jammed at the foot of some rocks, and people on board waving their arms.
TheRingdovehad spotted her as well, and we all cheered and steered straight across towards her—at any rate, theRingdovesteered and we were towed round—and the gunboat dropped her anchor about a hundred yards off.
The poor littleFerretwas all over to port. She had only her mizzen mast standing, and was evidently hard and fast on the rocks, right in the middle of a small creek.
Mr. Rashleigh went across in the whaler at once, and as he got close to her we could see his boat's crew pulling very fast, and noticed some bullet splashes round the boat, and theFerret'sMaxim spluttered out. We couldn't see what they were firing at, and it was most exciting.
"Mr. Trevelyan, he's bottled 'em, sir; that's what he's done, sir," Sharpe said. He was busy repairing the tiller, and going about the job as if he was on board theVigilantat Hong-Kong, or Portsmouth, or anywhere else where there was no chance of a scrap.
Well, that was just what it turned out to be. Mr. Trevelyan had fetched the mouth of the channel the morning after he had left me, hadn't been fired at by the battery, but had coolly crawled through and examined the shore on each side. He had found this creek, sailed up it right past a bend, and found himself in sight of a dozen or more junks all anchored together. He had carried on and opened fire on them, but found that they were too much for him. He had lost his mainmast, had two men killed when it fell, had to haul out again, and, not being able to avoid the rocks in the middle of the creek, had run hard and fast on them.
Jim told me the story, and how they daren't try and get her off again because she had such a big hole in her bottom, and how the junks had tried to come and capture her, but had to come singly, and couldn't face the six-pounder shells and the Maxim, and had drawn back. Last night they had tried to rush them in boats, but Mr. Trevelyan had rigged nets all round, and it blew very hard, and many boats were stove in on the rocks, and the nets and the Maxim gun drove off those that did not get alongside.
"It was a most awful night, Dick," he said, "but I wouldn't have missed it for the world, now it's all over. And what we should have done without that ammunition you gave us, I don't know."
All that day the pirates had been firing rifles at them from both sides of the creek, and only one man at each gun was allowed on deck, and they had had to be changed, because three of them had been wounded. Everyone else had kept down below in the hold, with the dirty water up to their knees.
"We couldn't have stuck it for another day," Jim told me, "and Mr. Trevelyan was going to attempt to land the guns on one of the bigger rocks, which had some trees on it, that very night, and try and cut them down and make a breastwork of them, and hold out till you came."
Mr. Trevelyan had sent him across to that rock during the night to see if it was all right, and he had waded and swam across, and then in the dark slipped down on his way back, and cut himself against the rocks. His hands, and face, and chest, and all over, in fact, were all scratched—great long scratches—and he was so stiff, he could hardly move. He had to be bandaged pretty well all over, but was as happy as anything. "Mr. Trevelyan is a fine chap," he kept on saying. "He's always thinking of some new dodge. It was grand."
"What are you firing at?" I asked him. "Can you see the junks from theFerret?"
"No, they're round the corner, but the cliffs are full of the brutes with rifles."
Dr. Hibbert wouldn't let us see Dicky. "He's asleep again," he called out from theRingdove'spoop. "Don't you come aboard, bothering round. He'll do all right." He had a lot of work to do, because one of the "Ringdoves" had been very badly smashed "up" by that shot which had hit her, and four or five of Mr. Trevelyan's men had been more or less badly wounded, and had come across with Jim in the whaler. Dr. Hibbert, and the Paymaster, and the sick-berth attendant were busy in the ward room patching them up.
They had got up steam in theRingdove'slittle steam cutter, and Mr. Rashleigh and Mr. Trevelyan steamed up past the rock and out of sight round the corner.
TheFerretfired her Maxim and theRingdoveher Nordenfelts to keep down the rifle fire, and they got past the entrance safely and out of sight, but came back very soon.
I could see that Mr. Rashleigh was puffing out his cheeks with importance, and that Mr. Trevelyan was looking very vexed about something, as they went aboard theRingdove, and I heard afterwards that Mr. Rashleigh had wanted to steam back to Tinghai at once to report that he had found the headquarters of the pirates. Mr. Trevelyan, however, wanted to burn the pirate junks first, and, if theRingdovewouldn't go in and try, had offered to do the job with her boats.
Eventually Mr. Rashleigh gave way, but he wouldn't take theRingdovein till his Sub-lieutenant had surveyed the creek, and he sent him away in the whaler to take soundings, although Mr. Trevelyan swore that there was enough water.
The whaler was all right whilst she was in sight, but directly she got round the corner she lost a man wounded, and came hurrying back again. There was another row then; but Mr. Trevelyan had his own way, and a Nordenfelt machine gun was put in the bows of theRingdove'scutter and another in the steamboat, and we saw that they were going to follow the whaler and protect her.
Jim and I were supposed to be getting some sleep all this time, but we couldn't—of course we couldn't; and just then Mr. Trevelyan shouted to us that I had to go away in charge of the cutter, and Jim in charge of the steamboat, if we'd had enough sleep. The boats dropped down alongside theSally, and we were aboard in a jiffy, Jim grinning with delight. We shouted that we'd had all the sleep we wanted and were quite wide awake, and shoved off after the whaler, Jim taking me in tow and I taking the whaler astern of me.
The steamboat towed us past theFerret, quite close to her. She was an absolute wreck, and all one side looked as though it was smashed in by a big rock. She fired a shell or two to prevent the brutes firing rifles at us from the shore, and the five men left aboard her cheered us. We got past without being fired at, and then we were out of sight of theRingdove, and the steamboat cast us off, and we had to pull in towards the starboard side of the creek and search that with our Nordenfelt, if anyone fired. The steamboat did the same on the other side, and the Sub in the whaler went on taking soundings between us.
"Cutter!" the Sub had shouted, and I held up my hand (he didn't know my name), "open fire directly you hear rifle shots;" and I sang out, "Ay, ay, sir!" and you may bet we were keen as mustard, and "stood by" with the Nordenfelt's hopper full of one-inch cartridges, and the lever all ready to jerk backwards and forwards.
You should have seen us watching the banks. I had borrowed the signalman's field glasses, because my telescope had disappeared in the wreckage of theSally'spoop, and watched every bit of rock or bush, and saw several Chinamen creeping about. They had rifles, but didn't fire them.
"There's a shot, sir!" cried the coxswain, and I saw a splash near the steamboat, and Jim began banging away with his Nordenfelt, but stopped after he'd fired three times, and we had never another shot fired at us. I was rather pleased. To make up for it, we suddenly came in sight of the whole fleet of pirate junks, and a whole crowd of ordinary junks lying behind them. They weren't more than five hundred yards away, and, when they saw us, began beating drums, and clashing brass things, and yelling, and letting off crackers to frighten us. One of the nearest had her side turned towards us, and began letting off her guns as well, and the din was simply hideous.
It was just like going up to a peaceful wasp's nest and stirring it up with a stick.
We were both close to the whaler, and the little round shot began to come rather too near. I heard Jim shout, "Couldn't we go for them, sir?" and my boat's crew bent forward to be ready for a spurt; but the Sub, who was standing up in the whaler, shook his head, and ordered Jim to take us in tow again. He looked as if he'd jolly well like to have tried, but he had to obey orders.
"There's enough bally water for an ironclad," he shouted, "all the way up, but we must go back, or it'll be too late for theRingdoveto do anything."
So back we went again, the men pulling their oars to make it easier for the steamboat, and the round shot bobbing about in the water astern of us, till we'd got out of sight.
But Mr. Rashleigh wouldn't move for anything the Sub or Mr. Trevelyan said to him. It would be dark in half an hour, and he wasn't going to risk anything in the dark, and would wait for daylight. I was ordered to take my cutter alongside theFerret, and transfer her guns and stores to theRingdove. This took nearly two hours in the dark, and Mr. Trevelyan came in charge. He was simply bubbling over with anger. "She's got a searchlight, and the oldVigilantcould go up there without winking. I bet 'Old Lest' would have cleared out the whole blooming crowd by now. My aunt! fancy wasting the whole jumping day! Call himself Rashleigh! My blessed grandmother!" and he spat in the water to show his contempt.
The last thing I took away was my white ensign, and although it was nighttime, I hoisted it on board the Sally again. It had several bullet holes through it, and was torn and looked jolly warworn. I thought even then that I'd keep it—if the signalman didn't collar it himself—for my mother, or perhaps give it to Nan when I got home.
We had cast off from theRingdove, and had anchored close to her. My orders were to make the cutter "fast" along-side, man it in the morning with all theSally'screw who were left, and follow theRingdoveup the creek directly it was light.
I was very excited, but managed to find some place to lie down, and slept jolly well, which only shows how very tired I must have been.
Sharpe woke me at six, half an hour before sunrise. We all had some hot cocoa and some biscuit, and then we got as many rifles and revolvers and cutlasses as we could find, and filled the Gardner's hopper with cartridges. We crept about in the dark without making any noise, could presently hear the hands "turning out" aboard theRingdove, and took our places in the cutter and waited to shove her off. When it was light enough to just see the rocks, Mr. Rashleigh called out that he was not going to weigh for another half-hour, and there we had to sit, and the longer we waited the less brave we felt—at any rate, I felt. I don't believe that anyone can feel brave on a dark cold morning.
It seemed like hours before we heard her cable "clanking in", and that woke us up again with a funny, cold feeling, and in a few minutes the water under her stern began to swirl, and she started very slowly for the entrance, and we pulled away from theSallyafter her.
Then there came a surprise, if you like. My aunt! it did startle us.
Right on top of the cliffs, over our heads, a terrific roar broke out, and splash went a shot right under theRingdove'sstern, and the water fell right aboard her.
"They've hauled a gun up there—on the right, sir," Sharpe said very quietly, and somehow or other I felt certain that this would decide Mr. Rashleigh not to go up that creek. I am certain that he never really wanted to go there.
He yelled to me to come alongside, and then he yelled for me to go back to theSally, cut her cable, and clear out of it.
I was very frightened, and hurried back to theSally—Ah Chee was the only one aboard her—when another roar came from above, the shot fell between theRingdoveand ourselves, and wetted us all. I saw theRingdovehurrying towards the foot of the cliffs, where the gun couldn't touch her.
"We must be nippy, sir," Sharpe said, very excitedly for him.
Just as we were going to run alongside, someone sang out, "What on earth's that, sir?" pointing to a small rock on the other side of the creek. We all looked, and could see someone standing there and waving his arms. "He's trying to semaphore," several men cried, and a moment after, "It's Lootenant Travers, sir."
None of us thought of that gun then, and we shoved off towards him as hard as we could—there were only six of us in a ten-oared cutter—and gave a shout.
"Swim towards us, sir," I yelled, as we got closer and bullets came round, though I didn't really notice them much. There was a Chinaman with him, and they both waded out as far as they could, and we grabbed them and hauled them in, and pulled back again with another shout, Mr. Travers taking one of the spare oars, and the Chinaman, who was almost dead of fright, hiding under the gunwale.
As we hauled Travers on board he asked, "Have you found Sally Hobbs?" but I shook my head, and hadn't time to think what that all meant, and shouted to Sharpe, "Cut the anchor rope directly we get aboard and hoist the fores'l." I needn't have troubled, because that gun above us fired again, and we saw the stump of poor littleSally'smainmast come toppling down, big pieces of her deck went flying about, and she began to heel over as we ran alongside. Mr. Travers and I jumped aboard, but I saw that she was done for. Her deck was absolutely smashed up amidships, the six-pounder had fallen on top of the cartridge boxes in the hold, and water was bubbling up through two great holes in her bottom.
"We shall have to leave her, sha'n't we, sir?" I asked.
But there was no doubt of it, and I only just had time to haul down the white ensign and get back into the boat and shove off, before she settled right down, and with a bubbling noise slid under.
"'Twill drown all them cursed bugs and cockroaches what's been biting at us, curse 'em!" Sharpe said coolly, and we shoved off for the gunboat under the cliff. You bet that Ah Chee had jumped into the cutter directly we'd got alongside!
TheRingdovewas waiting for us, and we were all aboard in five minutes. She sneaked out round the foot of the cliffs—Mr. Rashleigh didn't wait to take soundings now—ran out of the channel past where the two guns had been, without being fired at, and started off for Tinghai.
I saw Mr. Rashleigh rubbing his hands, and heard him chuckling, "I've rescued Travers, and the 'Old Man' will be jolly pleased." He seemed to be awfully proud of himself, but Mr. Trevelyan told Jim angrily: "Of course the Skipper will be pleased; everyone knows that; but he might have burnt the whole nest of them as well, wiped out the whole boiling crowd, if he'd only had the pluck to go in yesterday. Instead of which he gives those chaps time to haul their guns up over his head, where he can't touch it. Confound him!"
Mr. Travers came up on deck soon afterwards, shaved and clean, with some of the Sub's plain clothes on. He shook my hand. "Long time since you shoved me in the back in that crowd outside the Mission House, Ford. Thought they would have plugged some of you in that boat. They were firing pretty fast." That was tremendously demonstrative for him.
It was jolly good to have got him back safely, but we were all awfully disappointed that we hadn't found where Sally and her father were. We had thought we had done so, but he told us they weren't there, and he hadn't the faintest idea where they were. The Chinaman who'd helped him to escape, and had come along for his reward, didn't know anything about them either. Ah Chee found this out.
Dicky was a jolly lot better, and could talk, but hadn't the faintest remembrance of anything after we'd sighted those four junks beating up to wind'ard after us. He remembered the junk running away from us and the masts coming down, but nothing after that.
Dr. Hibbert wouldn't let him talk to us much. Poor Cooke died before we had got out of sight of land, and we stopped our engines and buried him at sea.
That brought the killed ones in the two junks up to six—two of Jim's and four of mine—and there were six wounded besides Dicky.
I managed to hide away the ensign before the signalman could claim it, and felt rather a beast; but I meant to keep it and get it home—some day. Jim lent me another monkey jacket. It was quite "sopping" wet, but it was clean, and we soon dried it, so that I looked more respectable, and didn't feel so horrid as I had felt in my bloodstained one.