Chapter II

In the cabin I found Wagtail, Gelid, and Bangs, three British officers, stationed at the West Indies, capital fellows, who finding their time hang heavy on their hands, had procured leave of absence, and accompanied me in my cruise, which though somewhat dangerous it is true, still offered occasional opportunities of amusement. They were sitting round a small table, smoking, and before them stood glasses of brandy and water.

"Something of a fight, eh?" said Paul Gelid, a long-limbed Creole from the Bahamas, but a warm-hearted, honorable fellow, with a drawling voice. "Not very pleasant in the evening, I should say."

"You're a pretty fellow," retorted Aaron Bangs, "to be plaguing us with your chatter at such an unseasonable moment as this."

Bangs had been an active and brave officer, but ease and comfort was every thing to him, and when he could not fight, he did not like to hear it spoken of.

Pepperpot Wagtail was a little round fellow, of an irritable temperament, but great goodness of heart, and very scrupulous in his dealings with mankind. He had been sick and had come on board in order to recruit his health. I do not know how to describe his appearance better than to compare him to an egg, to the large end of which, his little feet were fastened.

"My dear sir," he said to Bangs, "reach me that cursed biscuit."

Bangs gave him the bowl, throwing into it some pieces of biscuit which were as hard as stones.

All this time I was occupied with my chart. Wagtail took a piece of the biscuit and put it into his mouth.

"Zounds! my dear Aaron," cried he, ironically, "what dentist are you in league with? Gelid has just broken off his favorite tooth, and now you want"--

"Bah!" replied Bangs, "don't frighten yourself; but what the deuce is this? Wagtail, Gelid, my dear fellows, look here!"

A sailor, who was followed by the ship's surgeon, brought down on his back, the poor fellow who had been wounded, and laid him on the table. I must here remark that the captain's cabin in small vessels is sometimes used as a cockpit, as it now was.

"Your pardon, captain and gentlemen," said the surgeon, "but I must, I fear, perform an ugly operation on this poor lad, and I think it better that you should go on deck."

I had now an opportunity of seeing what kind of mettle my friends were made of.

"Doctor," said Bangs, pulling off his coat, "I can be of use, I know very well--no skill, but firm nerves."

"And I," cried Wagtail, "can tie a bandage, although I am not a surgeon."

Gelid said nothing, but when it came to the pinch was the most useful of all. The wounded lad Wiggins, a fine young man, was weak and very pale, but bold as a lion. A cannon shot had shivered the bone of his leg just above the knee. Round his thigh was a tourniquet, and in consequence he did not bleed much.

"Captain," said the poor boy, "I shall get over this. I have no great pain, sir; I have not indeed."

All this time the surgeon was cutting his pantaloons from his leg, and now a shocking sight presented itself to our view. The foot and leg were blue and shrivelled, and connected with the thigh by only a small ligament; the knee pan too was shattered. The doctor made the young man swallow a glass of brandy, containing a strong dose of opium, and then began to amputate the limb above the knee. As long as the knife was used, Aaron remained firm, but when the saw grated against the bone, he murmured with a shudder:

"I'm going on deck captain: I can't stand this--I'm sick as a dog."

He was so weak that I released him and took his place, holding Wiggins in my arms. Wagtail, too, was soon obliged to beat a retreat, but Gelid remained firm as a rock. The leg was amputated, the arteries tied, and the surgeon busy in loosening the tourniquet, when suddenly the thread which bound the principal artery, gave way, and a stream of blood gushed forth, as if driven by an engine. The poor fellow had hardly time to cry "Take away that cold hand from my heart!" when his eyes grew dim, his lower jaw fell, and in a minute it was all over with him.

"Dead as Julius Cæsar, captain," said Gelid coolly.

Dead enough, thought I, and left the cabin to go on deck. At the foot of the companion-ladder, I stumbled over something.

"What the deuce is this?" growled I.

"It's me, sir."

"Me--and who's me?"

"Reefpoint, sir."

"Gracious God! what are you doing here youngster? You're not wounded, I hope."

"A little, sir; a scratch from a splinter, sir. The same shot that tripped up poor Wiggins, sent a splinter after me."

"Why don't you go to the doctor, Reefpoint?"

"I was waiting until he had finished with Wiggins, sir, but as it is all over with him now, I'll go and have my wound dressed."

His voice grew weaker and weaker, until I could hardly understand what he said. I took him in my arms, carried him into the cabin, and undressed him. I found that he was wounded in the right side just above the hip. Bangs, who in the meanwhile had got over his weakness by the aid of a glass of water, lent his aid, and the natural goodness of his heart now made itself apparent.

"What, Reefpoint! little reefer," he cried; "you are surely not wounded, my dear friend--such a little fellow; why I should as soon have thought they would have shot at a fly."

"Indeed, I am wounded, Master Bangs; look there."

Bangs examined the wound, holding the poor little midshipman in his arms.

"God bless me!" he cried, with an outbreak of the most heartfelt grief; "you seem more fit to be in your mother's nursery, than to be knocked about in this way."

Reefpoint sank fainting into his arms.

"With the captain's permission you must have my bed," said Aaron to him, whilst he and Wagtail undressed the boy with the greatest care and tenderness, and laid him in the hammock.

"Thank you, sir," sobbed little Reefpoint, "if my mother were here, she would thank you too."