Chapter V: A Barrack-Room Squabble

Ranged on one side of the room were eight iron bedsteads, the bedding being rolled up and strapped round to keep it neat during the daytime. Down the centre of the room, resting on iron trestles, were several long deal boards, scrubbed very white, forming a table; on each side of the table were forms.

The occupants of the room were variously engaged. Two young fellows at one end of the room were engaged in a bout with the boxing-gloves; another was sitting at the table writing a letter; a fourth was engaged burnishing a sword-scabbard, other parts of his kit lying round him; a fifth lad was pipeclaying a pair of gauntlets; while seated at a window, dressed in shirt and overalls only, was the eldest of the party, a short, stout young man, smoking a clay-pipe and talking to a comrade.

Over the beds hung each man’s sword and belts, and on a shelf above these were the lance-caps in their oilskin cases, and the clothes neatly folded, surmounting the sheepskin and the blue shabracks which covered the saddles when the regiment was in review order.

Jack was not long taking in these details; but before he had done so the various occupants of the room had desisted from their occupations and fixed their eyes upon him.

‘Why, it’s Sergeant Barrymore’s pup!’ said the young fellow with the pipe. ‘Come here, kid, and let’s have a look at you.’

This was said in a sneering manner, and Jack took an instinctive dislike to the speaker.

‘Run away from school, or has yer mammy been spanking you?’ he added.

‘Neither,’ said Jack simply. ‘I have become a soldier of my own free will.’

‘Ho my!’ exclaimed he with the pipe. ‘Well, just behave yourself, or you’ll feel the weight of my boot.’

‘That’s Napper,’ said Hodson to Jack. ‘Don’t take any notice of him.’

He took Jack to a bed which he said would be his, and proceeded to show him how to put down and make it with the straw-filled tick and the coarse sheets and blankets. Jack helped to roll and strap it up again just as a trumpet sounded outside.

‘There goes mess,’ cried Bandsman Napper. ‘Now, Brown, shin off and get the grub;’ and a young trumpeter, picking up a big tin, left the room.

The table required little laying, the boys producing from the shelves over their beds chunks of bread, in which knives and forks were stuck, plates and basins like pudding-basins were laid on the table, and the bandsman who had been talking to Napper, with a jaunty ‘Ta-ta, boys!’ went off to his own room.

The trumpeter who had departed for the dinners presently returned, and in the mess-tin was a great piece of meat and a number of baked potatoes swimming in the fat beneath; and a second youngster followed with a great tin of cabbage. All these were placed on the table.

The plates were passed up, and Napper, who was in charge of the room, commenced to carve the meat. Carving, with him, simply consisted of first trimming off the brown, well-done portions and some crisp fat for himself, then cutting the remainder into seven ugly chunks, one of which he dumped on each plate. Hodson added some potatoes, and each helped himself to cabbage; then without any more ado all fell to.

Hodson, looking up, saw Jack had nothing on the plate in front of him. ‘I say, Napper,’ he said, ‘Blair’s got no grub.’

‘What’s that got to do with me?’ answered Napper with his mouth full.

‘He’s in the mess, you know.’

‘He ain’t had any rations drawn for him, anyhow. If he wants any grub let him get it in the sergeants’ mess with his pals,’ he concluded spitefully, evidently alluding to Jack’s friendliness with Barrymore.

‘Here, I say, that’s all rot,’ said Hodson. ‘He’s hungry.’

‘Then let him gnaw that,’ grinned Napper, pointing to the bone which remained in the tin.

‘Never mind, chummy; share with me,’ said Hodson, proceeding to put some of his dinner on Jack’s plate.

‘Certainly not,’ replied Jack. ‘I’m not very hungry, and in any case Mr Napper says I can have the bone. I’ll take him at his word, for I’m particularly fond of picking a bone.’

The ‘Mr’ tickled the fancy of the youngsters, one or two of whom grinned gleefully, perceiving which, Napper scowled round upon them.

‘Look here, you young tramp,’ he said savagely to Jack, ‘don’t you give me any of your cheek or I’ll cuff your head for you. And you can take off those elegant manners too. If your “superior education” fits you for the orficers’ mess you’d better get there; they want waiters anyway. But while you’re here you’ll knock under, d’ye hear?’

‘Perfectly, you speak loudly enough.’

Another titter ran round, which made Napper redder than ever.

Hodson had put the bone on Jack’s plate, and was adding some potatoes when Napper cried out, ‘Drop those; we don’t mind giving dogs bones, but we don’t give ’em spuds.’

At this the laugh turned against Jack; but at boarding-school he had been too used to that to take any notice. So with some cabbage, which Hodson, in defiance of his superior, gave him, and with a lump of bread which another trumpeter offered him, he made a very good dinner, for there was plenty of meat on the bone.

Napper was in a bad humour, and after he had finished his dinner, lighting up his pipe, he said to Jack, ‘You’ll just understand that I’m in charge here and you’ll do as you’re told.’

‘Certainly.’

‘Don’t answer me.’

Jack made no reply, for he saw at once that Napper was a bully, misusing the little authority he had, and that the majority of the trumpeters found it paid them to toady a little to one much older and stronger than themselves. On his part Jack determined to feel his feet before he tackled Bandsman Napper, for he felt assured before long they would come to grips.

Seeing Jack stood without speaking, Napper said, ‘You’ll help Brown to wash up and tidy the room. You’ve got to work here, and the sooner you begin the better.’

Jack helped to wash up the plates, knives, and forks, the hot water being got from the cook-house. Then the table was washed down and the floor swept.

By that time all the trumpeters, except one who was cleaning up his kit for guard the next day, had gone off to practice. Jack looked across at him, and saw he was busy burnishing a pair of spurs. This trumpeter, whose name was Parkes, was a stolid-looking lad, who took no notice of Jack till the latter went up to him and in a cheery voice said, ‘I say, can I help you?’

Parkes looked up from his work. ‘No good trying to borrow off me, chummy. I’m broke,’ he said.

‘I don’t want to borrow anything. Sooner or later I’ve got to learn to do what you’re doing. I hate doing nothing. Show me how, and I’ll help you.’

‘Now you’re talking!’ said Parkes. ‘You’re the man I want to meet every time I’m for guard. Can you black boots?’

‘Yes.’

‘Clean them, then,’ and he pointed to his Wellingtons. ‘You’ll find the blacking and brushes in my valise.’

Jack set to work, whistling gaily, and soon produced a polish that made Parkes smile.

‘Old Jimmy’ll reckon I’ve turned over a new leaf,’ he said.

He showed Jack how to polish the plate on the front of his lance-cap, and the chin-chain, and when he had done this Jack could not resist the temptation of putting the cap on and surveying himself in the bit of looking-glass, four inches square, fastened on the wall at the head of Parkes’ bed.

‘Feel big, eh?’ queried the trumpeter.

‘Not very,’ said Jack; ‘but it’s a handsome headdress.’

‘Wait till you’ve worn one six hours at a stretch on a broiling-hot day, then tell me how you like it,’ grinned Parkes.

The whole of his accoutrements being cleaned, that youth jerked out a brief ‘Thanks!’ then put down his bed, and throwing himself on it composed himself for a nap. Before he sank quite into the land of dreams he suddenly started up and said, ‘Didn’t I hear your name was Blair?’

‘You did,’ replied Jack.

‘Right. You ain’t a bad sort; I’ll give you a tip. Don’t you make an enemy of Snapper.’

‘Napper, do you mean?’

‘Same man. Name’s Sam Napper; S. Napper--see? We call him Snapper; you can guess why. Give him a wide berth, and don’t try hitting back at him unless you’re sure of getting your blow in, else, as sure as I’m Billy Parkes, you’ll curse the day you ever made the Queen’s bad bargain.’

Almost before this speech, a very long one for Parkes, was finished, that gentleman was asleep; and making a shrewd guess that by ‘the Queen’s bad bargain’ Parkes meant enlisting, Jack sat quietly down and thought over the situation.

That Napper was a bully he had already seen; that he was of a low disposition he guessed, and that he set the young trumpeters a bad example he feared. It was clear there would be trouble between them; he was not going to sit down under tyranny. He would do his duty cheerfully and manfully, and try to please Napper; if things went wrong--well, they would see.

This being settled, Jack thought it a good opportunity to write to his mother an account of all that had happened, and explain to her how it was he had become a trumpeter in the ‘Death or Glory Boys.’ He procured some note-paper from the canteen, and then set to work to write a long letter. He was just finishing, when, with a clatter and a jingle, laughing and talking, the rest of the trumpeters, headed by Napper, came trooping into the room. Hodson went up to Jack.

‘Well, chummy, what are you doing?’ he asked.

Napper interrupted. ‘Can’t you see he’s writing to his mammy.--Requesting the old girl to send you a bob’s worth of stamps, eh?’ he asked of Jack.

The latter took no notice, but folding his letter, put it in the envelope.

‘Ho, ho, the dook’s on his high horse,’ said Napper; ‘been telling “my mamma” I’ve joined the cavalry, don’t-cher-know, and shall soon be in the orficers’ mess.’

Some of the trumpeters sniggered.

‘Let’s see what the young beggar has said,’ cried Napper, stepping up to Jack and trying to snatch his letter.

Jack’s eyes flashed ominously and he jumped to his feet.

‘Don’t you interfere with me or try to touch my letter,’ he cried, his voice vibrating with passion.

Napper tried to seize the hand in which Jack held his letter; but the latter placed his left hand on Napper’s chest and pushed him so violently that he almost fell backwards.

Napper turned livid with rage. ‘You scum, you,’ he cried, ‘I’ll show you. I’ve had to take cocky youngsters down before. Here, one of you, give me my whip!’

No one moved, though several of the youngsters looked nervously at one another. Napper sprang to his bed, snatched down his riding-whip, and advancing towards Jack, cried, ‘Give me that letter or I’ll tan you till you can’t stand.’

‘Touch me with that whip if you dare,’ answered Jack, with flashing eyes.

Napper raised the whip, and Jack put up his arm to ward off the blow; but at that moment the door was opened, a jingle of spurs sounded, and a hoarse voice cried, ‘Ha, hum! now, you toads, what is all this? Not a move, any one, or I’ll put the lot under arrest. What d’ye mean by it I want to know? D’ye hear, _I want to know_?’