Chapter II: Part 2

The boatswain’s mate whistled; the side boys were called away, I being one of them, and we hastened to our posts on the accommodation-ladder. There, in a boat, sat Mrs Brigadier, with the Brigadier on one side and Master Richard on the other, and the two young ladies I had before seen. Mrs Brigadier, putting her hand on the shoulder of one of the men who was holding on the bow stepped up the accommodation-ladder with a dignified air, followed humbly by the Brigadier. Then came the young ladies. Young master followed his sisters in a spick-and-span new uniform, looking especially well pleased at himself. As he came up he espied me. That there was no pride in him, he showed by an inclination to shake hands with me. But against this there were two reasons: first, I should have fallen from my perch, and then it would have been decidedly against nautical etiquette.

“Why, Jack, shall I have to do this sort of work?” he asked, as he passed me.

“I think not, sir,” I answered, for I had learned to say “sir” to a uniform. “I am a side boy, you are a midshipman.”

“Oh, ay, that makes a difference,” he observed, following up his sisters; and I do believe he gave the last a pinch in the ankles, as he pretended to keep down her petticoats, for she kicked out behind, missing his nose, though, narrowly. The whole party were soon on deck, where the captain stood to receive them, bowing with formal politeness to Mrs Brigadier and to the Brigadier, as well as to the young ladies. He cast a very different sort of glance at young master, who came up, no way disconcerted, by the side of his father.

“We were anxious to see the last of our boy,” said Mrs Brigadier, for the Brigadier seldom spoke much in her presence. “We wished also properly to introduce him to you and to his brother officers. He is not our only son, but he is our youngest son, and as such we naturally prize him greatly. These are our two girls—Leonora and Euphemia. They are not likely to leave us, unless at any time they should be destined to make the home of some worthy man happy; but boys, Captain Sharpe, must go out into the world, and Richard Alfred Chesterton does not find himself an exception to the general rule. He desired to enter your noble profession, and I am sure, Captain Sharpe, that you will watch over him with paternal care; I trust by-and-by because you appreciate his merits, but at present, as he is unknown to you, for my sake—for the sake of a fond, doting mother.”

“I always do look after my midshipmen, madam,” answered the captain; “I wish them to learn their duty, and I make them do it. If your son behaves himself, he will get on as well as the rest; but if not, he will probably find himself spending a considerable portion of his time up aloft there,” and the captain glanced at the mast-head.

I saw young master screw up his mouth at this. However, Mrs Brigadier said nothing. She had unburdened her maternal bosom, and done her duty, as she considered it.

The captain now invited the Brigadier and his family down to luncheon, and Master Richard followed, his air of confidence somewhat abated. He had taken the captain’s measure, and the captain had taken his, but they were not likely to get on the worse for that. I saw many glances of admiration cast at the young ladies by the lieutenants and midshipmen, for really they were very pretty, nice girls, according to my notion—not a bit like their mamma.

At last the party came out of the cabin again, and the side boys were once more called away. The old Brigadier took a hearty affectionate farewell of his boy, and his sisters kissed him—all very right and proper—and then came Mrs Brigadier. I saw that poor Master Richard was rather uncomfortable, when, quite regardless of where they were, she took him up in her long arms, and kissed his cheeks, and his forehead, and his lips, just as if he had been a baby, and a big tear did start into her eye. “Well, she is human, at all events,” I thought, “in spite of her appearance.”

Though some of the midshipmen might have laughed, the captain looked as grave as a judge, and so did the other officers. Master Richard went down the ladder, and saw his party off: then he again came up the side, and walked about the deck by himself, evidently not knowing exactly what to do. At last, the first-lieutenant, Mr Blunt, went up to him.

“Have you ever been to sea before, Mr Plumb?” he asked.

“No, indeed, I have not,” was the answer, “and I am rather doubtful—”

“Well, well,” broke in Mr Blunt, “remember, I speak to you as a friend. You should say, ‘Sir!’ when you address a superior officer.”

“Certainly,” answered Master Dicky, “but I did not know you were my superior officer.”

The lieutenant laughed.

“You will have a good deal to learn, I suspect, Mr Plumb. Remember, I am the first-lieutenant of the ship, and you must obey with promptitude any orders which I, or any of the other lieutenants give, or the master, or the warrant-officers, or, indeed, any officers on duty, may issue. You have a great many people above you on board this ship, Mr Plumb.”

“So it seems, sir,” said Richard, “but if they all try to teach me my duty, so much the better; I shall learn the faster.”

“You will,” said Mr Blunt, “only there is one thing you must never pretend to be, and that is—stupid. The captain believes you to be one of the sharpest lads who ever came to sea; and, let me tell you, he is not the man to allow anybody to gainsay his opinion.”

Chapter Four. First Experiences of Sailing.

We ran down Channel at a rattling rate, the wind off shore, the sea smooth, the sun shining brightly. Young Master Richard soon got the name from his messmates of Dicky Plumb—a name which, of course, stuck to him. In spite of his airs of dignity, he soon showed that he was a plucky little fellow; and he was at once for going aloft with the other midshipmen and boys. The first time, he ran up the main rigging pretty smartly, till he got to the futtock-shrouds; go higher he could not, and go through the lubber’s hole he would not. He kept looking up, till at length he determined to go round by the futtock-shrouds into the top. He clambered along; I was aft, cleaning some brass-work, and could not help looking up, and watching him. Round into the top he could not get. More than once I thought he would lose his hold. The captain, who came on deck, thought so too. He made as if he would go aloft himself, when Ned Rawlings caught his eye.

“Go and look after the boy,” he said.

Ned sprang aloft, and in a twinkling had his arms round Dicky’s waist.

“Don’t struggle,” he said, “and I’ll have you down safe.”

In a few seconds, Dicky was all right on the deck. He was not contented, however; aloft he would go again, immediately.

“I will try once more, sir,” he said, turning to the captain—for he had learned to say “sir,” by this time, to everybody—and after three or four attempts—Ned Rawlings taking care to be in the top beforehand—round the shrouds he got, and safe into the top. He was not going to stop there, though; and up the top-mast rigging he went, and down again on the other side.

“If that boy does not break his neck, he will do well in the service,” I heard the captain observe. “The little fellow has got pluck and coolness.”

“They say in the berth, sir, that he is a most impudent little chap,” observed Mr Blunt.

“Very likely,” remarked the captain; “it takes some time to rub that sort of material out of a boy.”

Dicky often came forward to have a talk with me, and though he could be uppish enough with his equals and superiors, he was as kind and gentle to me as any one could be.

“I am very glad I came to sea, Jack,” he observed. “I am learning more about my work every day; and then the weather is so different to what I thought it was at sea. I always fancied we were tumbling and tossing about, except when the ship was in harbour; but here we have been gliding on for the last fortnight with the water as smooth as a mill-pond.”

I, in reply, said I was glad I came; but from what I heard, we must expect ups and downs at sea—sometimes smooth, and sometimes blowing hard.

“It is all the same to me,” I observed. “When I came to sea, I made up my mind to take the rough and the smooth together.”

“Jack, were you ever sea-sick?” asked Dicky.

“Not that I remember. Were you?”

“No; and I don’t intend to be,” he answered, drawing himself up somewhat proudly. “I am not going to be made the sport of my inside.”

“More likely of your messmates,” I answered.

We soon found, however, that this easy sort of life was not going to last for ever. One night we had to tumble out of our hammocks, in the middle watch, pretty fast, at the cry of—“All hands shorten sail!” The men were out of bed in a twinkling. It was wonderful how soon they slipped into their clothes. The sea was roaring, the wind howling and whistling, and the officers shouting—“Clew up! Haul down! Close reef topsails!” and similar cries. I was very glad not to have to go aloft just then, right up into the darkness, amid the slashing of ropes, and the flapping of sails, and the fierce whistling of the blast as it rushed through the rigging. So, I have an idea, was Dicky Plumb, though he had been boasting so boldly the previous afternoon. I remember being ordered aft with other boys, to man the mizen-topsail clew-line, which we did, and pulled, and hauled away, till we were ordered to belay. This is the only piece of service I recollect rendering to my country that night. When the ship was got under snug sail, the crew were piped down; and I, with the watch below, turned in. I was, however, by this time, feeling rather curious. I had hitherto been very well, and remarkably jolly; and was sure I was going to make a first-rate sailor. The ship, however, began to roll, and went on rolling more and more. Not only I, but most of the other boys, and many of the men, too, were looking very queer. I had a friend I have not mentioned before—Tommy Punchon by name—a fine little chap. He had never seen a ship before he came on board the _Roarer_; but he had read of ships, and foreign lands, and that made him come to sea, he told me. Now he had heard there was such a thing as sea-sickness, but he was not going to knock under to it—not he. I met Tommy coming along the lower deck (I am speaking now of the next morning), looking very green and yellow; indeed, all sorts of colours; perhaps I looked the same, I rather think I did. I asked him how he felt. “Very jolly, eh?”

“Oh, don’t! don’t!” he answered, with the corners of his mouth curling down. “It’s an awful reality; I must confess it.” Just then, I caught sight of Dicky Plumb, who had been sent along the deck on some duty, which he had evidently a difficulty in performing. I doubt if his mother would have owned him, so crest-fallen he looked. I dared not speak to him. He, indeed, cast an imploring look at me, as much as to say, “Don’t!” On he went, trying to reach the midshipmen’s berth, but overcome by his feelings—miserable I know they were, from experience—he stopped, and if Sergeant Turbot had not caught him in his arms, he would have sunk down on the deck. The sergeant, however, helped him along, till he got him stowed safely away in the berth, where there were probably several other young gentlemen in a like prostrate condition. Meantime, I grew worse and worse. Tommy and I were soon joined by other boys—a most miserable crew—and we all together went and stowed ourselves away in the fore part of the ship, thinking that no one would be troubled about such wretched creatures as we were. My grand idea was a hope that some one would come and throw me overboard. We lay thus for some time unnoticed, and began to hope that we should not be discovered. Still, I must say, I did not care what happened to us. I asked Tommy how he felt.

“Oh, Jack! Jack?” he groaned out, “Do take me by the head and heels, and heave me overboard, there’s a good fellow!”

“That’s just what I was going to ask you to do for me,” I answered, in the same dolorous tone, though I have an idea, that if any one had actually taken us at our word, the cold water would soon have restored us to health, and we should have wished ourselves on board again. Suddenly, we were all aroused by a gruff voice sounding in our ears, and, looking up, who should we see, but that hard-hearted individual, Bryan Knowles, the ship’s corporal, standing over us, cane in hand.

“What are all you boys idling here for?” he growled out. “Rouse up, every one of you; rouse up, you young villains, and go to your duty?”

Poor little wretches that we were; as if we could possibly do anything but just crawl from one place to another, and lie down, wishing to die. But it was not only the boys who were ill, but great hulking fellows, some seamen, but mostly marines; fully fifty of them, lying and rolling about the decks like logs of wood. I need not further describe the scene, or enter into too minute particulars.

At length, old Futtock, the boatswain—a friend of Sergeant Turbot’s—gave me leave to go and lie down in his cabin till I should get better. The very feeling that I had some one to care for me did me good.

In most ships there is a dirty Jem; we had one, a miserable fellow, with a skin which no amount of washing could cleanse. Now it happened that a party of tall marines had stolen down the fore cock-pit, and having found their way into the cable tier, had snugly stowed themselves on some spare sails and hawsers. There they lay, groaning and moaning, and making other noises significant of what was going on, when Mr Maconochie, a big, burly Scotchman, mate of the orlop deck, coming forward, heard them, and very soon began to peer about with his large goggle eyes into the recesses of the tier. I dreaded the consequences, as, slipping out of the cabin where I had been, I looked out to see what he was about.

“What are you sodgers doing there?” he roared out, in a furious passion at seeing what they had been about.

One of them, with a wicked leer, at once pointed to Dirty Jem, who lay fast asleep not far off. Now, whether Mr Maconochie thought he could not punish the marines, and was glad to get hold of some other individual on whom to vent his rage, I do not know; but, be that as it may, he roused up the poor boy, and having boxed his ears, ordered him to take one of the steerage, that is, a midshipman’s hammock—which had been left by the marine who ought to have lashed it up—and to carry it up and stow it in the poop nettings. Poor Jem poked his fingers into one of the turns, and began to drag the big hammock along, but so weak was he that he could scarcely move. I do not think he could ever have got up, even to the lower deck. Fortunately for Dirty Jem, Mr Blunt, who would allow no one but himself to bully, and that he never did, happened to come down, and inquiring why he was dragging the hammock, ordered him to put it down, and hauled Mr Maconochie pretty severely over the coals for his barbarity. The marines had meantime sneaked off, and thus escaped the mate’s rage. I had got nearly well by this time, and thought, as the ship was still tumbling about, that I was going to enjoy myself. The captain, however, having ascertained that we had got our sea legs and sea stomachs into order, ordered the ship’s corporal to turn us out of our hammocks at four o’clock next morning to muster at the lee gangway. We there had to answer to our number, and then came the pipe—

“Watch and idlers, holystone decks?”

We were sent on to the poop, and were employed for some time amidst the slashing and dashing of water, working away on our bare knees on the sanded decks, grinding them with the holystones. Then we had to scrub with hard brushes, while the captain of the mizen-top kept dashing buckets full of water round us, often sending one right into our faces. There were generally one or two of the midshipmen there, who had to paddle about, with their trousers tucked up and their feet and legs bare; however, as the first-lieutenant set them the example, they had no cause to complain.

For a whole day I had seen nothing of Dicky Plumb. At length, one morning, who should appear on deck but the young gentleman himself. He looked doubtingly at first at what was going forward, then off he slipped his shoes and socks, rolled up his trousers, and began like the others running here and there, seeing that all hands worked away with a will. We had to muster for numerous purposes—to see that we were clean, and that our hammocks were lashed up properly. The latter was severe work; for, the hammocks being heavy and we little, when the ship was rolling it was as much as we could do, and sometimes more than we could do, to hold on to them, and keep ourselves from rolling away across the deck. Poor Jem (Dirty Jem, I mean) was often in trouble. The lieutenant made us tuck up our shirt-sleeves and trousers, and then lift our arms and legs to see that they were properly washed. Dirty Jem had really got his arms clean up to his elbows, and legs up to the knees.

“Turn up your shirt-sleeves higher, boy, and your trousers too,” said the lieutenant.

A dark rim of dirt was seen at each place.

“Corporal, give this boy twelve finnams!” exclaimed the lieutenant.

“Please, sir, I didn’t know that we were to muster there,” spluttered out Dirty Jem.

The excuse, however, did not save him. He got the finnams, and had to clean himself into the bargain. To the latter operation he objected even more than the first, and seemed to think it a very hard case of cruelty. However, I shall have no space for our adventures in the far East, if I go spinning my yarn in this style. We touched at Madeira, the chief object, I fancy, being to procure a cask or two of wine for the captain and the admiral on the station. Hearing one day that we were nearing the line, I, with Tommy Punchon and several other boys, were very anxious to know what that could mean. I promised to ask Sergeant Turbot. I did so. He looked very wise, and replied—“Why, you understand, Jack, that the line is what you don’t see, but it’s there, and runs right round the world, from east to west, or west to east, it’s all the same. And then it’s very hot there, because the sun is right overhead, and for the same cause it’s always summer, and the days are neither very long nor very short, and there are mostly calms. For this reason, and because he could not pick out a more comfortable part of the whole watery-world, the king of the ocean, Daddy Neptune, as we call him, once on a time used to live there. He does not now, that I know of, because I have heard say that all the heathen gods and goddesses have given up living at all on the earth; though, to be sure, I don’t say but what he and they may visit it now and then. Now, Jack, you understand all about the matter, or as much as I, a sergeant of the Royal Marines, do, and that surely must be quite enough for a second-class boy on board ship.”

Full of the lucid information I had received, I returned to my messmates, who told me that, in spite of what the sergeant had said, they heard, positively, that Neptune and all his court were coming on board, either the next day or the following. Sure enough, Daddy did come on board, in right fashion, when the opportunity was taken of giving Dirty Jem a thorough washing, and punishing three or four other individuals in a rather unpleasant way, by cramming their mouths full of grease and pitch, under the pretence of lathering them, before being shaved by Neptune’s barber. I should say, that a lower studding-sail had been fastened up, in the form of a long bag, in the main deck, on the starboard side, and filled with water. The skid gratings had been taken off, so that, looking down from the starboard gangway, nothing but water was to be seen. Neptune and his wife made their appearance from forward, sitting on what they said was their chariot, but which looked like a gun-carriage. They had two infants, who put me wonderfully in mind of two small boys in our mess, while his wife had very much the appearance of Ned Rawlings; and I thought, too, I recognised the features of his secretary, his coachman, and barber. They were followed by a number of courtiers, and twenty-four bears, and as many constables. The chief business of the latter was to catch the fellows who were to be shaved and ducked. We boys were tossed about from side to side of the tank by the bears, they crying out, “He’s none of my child!” and very fortunate we thought ourselves when we got out again. The side being smooth and steep as an earthen pan, we were very much like rats caught in one. Besides Dirty Jem, the smaller, we had a big, hulking fellow—Michael Clack, by name. He was a dirty, lazy, lubberly fellow, disliked and despised by all the ship’s company. He had, from the first, I doubt not, a pretty good notion that he would receive no very delicate treatment from Neptune’s ministers, so he went and hid himself away, thinking that he might, perhaps, escape notice. He had been marked, however, from the first.

“Michael Clack! Michael Clack!” was soon called out by the secretary, and “Michael Clack! Michael Clack!” resounded along the decks. The constables searched for him everywhere, along each deck, behind every chest, and each store-room, and in each corner into which he could possibly have crept. At last, it was believed that he must have gone overboard. Still, as he had been seen by more than one of the boys scudding along the decks faster than he had ever been known to move before, the fact that he had gone overboard was doubted by a great many. At length, the constables instituted another search along the orlop deck, and in the cable tier. A shout proclaimed that Clack was found. He was stowed away in the coil of a cable, and a piece of canvas drawn neatly over him. He was dragged up, and placed on the plank before Neptune.

“You are a big, lazy, idle, mischievous, do-nothing rascal,” began his Majesty. “You deserve no good from any one, and you will get it, too, my hearty! Give him Number 1.” That was the roughest razor in use. “Plenty of lather! Lay it on thick!” Neptune’s ministers of justice did not require a second bidding. The moment the unhappy Clack opened his mouth to plead his cause, the tar-brush was run almost down his throat. His face was next covered with it, and scraped with a jagged razor, till the blood ran out in all directions. In this state he was tossed into the tank, and bandied about among the bears, every one of whom owed him a grudge, till some one cried out that he was done for. He had fainted, or, like the Australian dingo, had pretended to faint, and looked, indeed, as if he were dead. The captain, seeing what had happened, was very angry, and ordering him to be taken to the doctor, forbade the sports to be continued. Neptune and his secretary begged pardon as well as they could for what had happened, and he and his followers waddled forward, and disappeared over the bows. We heard that evening that Michael Clack was very ill, and there was a general idea that he was going to die. What the doctor thought about the matter I do not know.

Clack hated work, but he disliked nasty physic still more. This the doctor knew; and by giving him all the most nauseous draughts he could think of he soon got him out of the sick list. Clack, though out of the sick list, was very soon in the black list; and being shortly afterwards detected in helping himself to the contents of another man’s bag, he was adjudged by the captain to be placed in irons, to be kept in solitary confinement, and otherwise punished.

Chapter Five. Across the Ocean.

Falling in at length with the north-east trade-winds, we stood towards the coast of South America, and entered Rio de Janeiro harbour, which was but very little, if anything, out of our course for the Cape of Good Hope. This will be seen by a glance at a map of the world, and ships, therefore, frequently touch there on their way to the regions beyond the Cape of Good Hope. It is a magnificent bit of water, surrounded by curiously-shaped mountains and peaks, with a big city on its shores, full of large streets and no end of churches. Sergeant Turbot took Tommy Punchon and me with him, to keep us out of mischief, though we would rather have gone alone to try and get into it. I was astonished at the quantity of black slaves, grunting and groaning away under their heavy loads. Still, they were ever ready for a joke, and the niggers we met with loads were merry laughing fellows, who went along singing and joking, as if no such thing as slavery existed. I might fill my journal with an account of the numberless curious things I saw on shore, but if I did I should have no space for my own adventures; so I will leave to others to give a description of Rio, and go on with my sea log.

That night, when we got on board again, Sergeant Turbot and the boatswain were walking the forecastle, and Punchon and I were standing not far off, when a splash was heard, and the sentry shouted out, “A man overboard!” He immediately fired, but did not hit the man, whose head I could see as I looked out from one of the ports as he struck out boldly for the land; there were plenty of sharks about, so that there was not much chance of his reaching it, even if he was allowed to go. The sentry’s shot was, however, followed by the officer of the watch calling away the second cutter. She was lowered and manned pretty quickly, and I watched her eagerly as she made chase after the fugitive. He was soon brought back, and proved to be no other than Michael Clack, who, taking advantage of the short interval when a prisoner is relieved from his manacles in the evening, had contrived to slip overboard. No one had supposed that he was a good swimmer, yet, to reach the shore, he must have been a first-rate one. Perhaps some friend had told him that an American vessel lay inside of us, and he hoped to reach her, when he would have been taken on board and concealed. He would, however, have been a somewhat dear bargain, if they had got him. We were soon again at sea, steering across the Atlantic for the Cape of Good Hope. I need scarcely say that soon after we got out of harbour Michael Clack got four dozen for his attempt at desertion. I am not going to describe the ceremony; it is a very unpleasant one for all hands concerned. Still, I must own, Master Michael got what he deserved.

“You have heard of good service stripes, may-be, Jack?” said the sergeant to me. “Those are what we call bad service stripes; and mind you, boy, never do anything to deserve them.”

I asked Sergeant Turbot if he could tell me anything of these trade-winds, which had been blowing so strong in our favour for so many days.

“That’s just what I have been talking to Futtock about,” he answered. “He and I make it out, that they always do blow in some parts from the north-east, and, further south, from the south-east. Why they blow thus, is more than I can tell you; but I’ve heard say, that they have got the name of trade-winds, because they help on traders in a voyage through the Atlantic.”

I was not quite satisfied with this answer, and determined to try and find out more of the matter by-and-by. The weather had been threatening for some hours, and towards evening the hands were turned up to reef topsails. Three reefs were at once taken in, and not a moment too soon. Down came the gale upon us. The big ship heeled over till the lower-deck ports were under water. The rolling seas tossed round her, and roared, as if eager to swallow her up. The wind whistled, the thunder growled, every now and then breaking overhead with tremendous rattles and crashes, and a pitchy darkness came down over the ocean, the occasional flashes of lightning only rendering the darkness still more dark. Before long we had our fore-topsail close reefed, three reefs in the main-top-sail, and mizen-topsail furled, and we were running dead before the gale, at not less than fifteen knots an hour. Mr Futtock said that we were going twenty; and, of course, I believed him; but I do not now, because I never found the fastest ship go so fast, and the old _Roarer_ was, as the men said, a good one to fight, but not to go. In spite of the remarks I made of our captain, many of the men still held to the notion that there was more talk than do in him.

“Just a lady’s man—very fine to look at, with his cambric handkerchiefs and scent bottles, but you never get much out of such chaps.”

Officers little think how much they are discussed by the men. The second-lieutenant was thought still less of, and not without reason. He was fond of spouting poetry, and doing the polite to young ladies, whenever any came off to see the ship; but as to seamanship, he knew little about it. He often got the ship into a mess, but had no idea of getting her out of it again. Now, it happened to be his first watch; it had just struck eight bells. The starboard watch had been called, and a few minutes afterwards the other watch was mustered. During this time the rounds went to see all cleared up and safe below. The watch relieved was just turning in. Some already had their clothes off, when suddenly a fearful crashing sound was heard. No one knew what had happened, only that there was a feeling that the ship was in some awful danger. Not a word was heard from the officer of the watch. If we were in peril he was not going to take us out of it—so it seemed. Neither Punchon nor I had taken off our clothes, so we scrambled on deck to see what was the matter. A seaman will understand our position, when I say that the ship was taken right aback, and driving, stern first, at the rate of some twelve knots an hour, with the sea breaking over her poop, two-thirds of which were already under water. No one spoke; not an order was given. Suddenly, a loud voice was heard, shouting, “On deck, lads, for your lives?” and directly afterwards Ned Rawlings piped, “All hands save ship!” The crew were on deck almost before the sound of the pipe had died away; and again the same voice—we now knew it to be that of the captain—shouted, “Man the starboard fore-brace!” Officers, marines, any one who was near, grasped the rope, and hauled away on it with a will. The head yards were very soon braced right up, and the head sails took and filled at the very moment that the poop was nearly under water, and it seemed as if the ship was going bodily down. The main and cross-jack yards were soon braced round, and in less than a quarter of an hour from the time the wind had shifted we were braced sharp up on the starboard tack, and going seven knots through the water.

“We have had a merciful deliverance,” I heard old Futtock remark to the gunner a short time afterwards. “It’s not often that a ship gets into the position we were in and gets out of it. In another minute the sea would have been rushing right over the poop down on our quarter-deck, and it would have been all over with us. If Mr Muddlehead had had his wits about him, he would have braced the yards up the moment we were taken aback. A pretty go it would have been, if we had not been under snug sail. Why, we should have gone right down, stern foremost, and never have come up again. That’s been the fate of many a ship out in these parts, which has never since been heard of.”

“A fine fellow, our skipper,” I heard Mr Plumb observe to a messmate. “I really did think at first that the Brigadier and my mother would have had to bewail my loss. I am deeply indebted to him.”

A loud laugh followed the young gentleman’s remark. “Ha! ha! ha! Dicky, remember that all people are not taken at their own value,” exclaimed an old mate, who was fond of putting Mr Plumb down now and then. After this night our captain was more than ever respected by the crew, because he was now known to be a thorough seaman—a doer as well as a talker—and in consequence he maintained discipline on board without flogging and without difficulty.

We touched at the Cape, where Dicky Plumb really did go on shore and dine with the Governor, who happened to be a friend of his father’s, and he took good care afterwards to talk not a little about his visit to his messmates, and the way he was treated by the Governor.

I was at this time appointed to wait on the midshipmen, the boy I superseded being the unfortunate Jem Smudge.

“I don’t like having you to wait on us,” observed Mr Midshipman Plumb to me, one day soon after this. “I am afraid the fellows will be abusing you, and I could not stand that; but you must not mind it, if they do; and if you will bear abuse for a little time, I will manage to make all square in the end.”

“Do not trouble yourself about that, Master Richard,” I answered. “Depend upon it, I don’t care what the young gentlemen say to me. I intend to do my duty to them, and Sergeant Turbot says it will be all the better for me. So, whatever they say, let it pass. Don’t say anything for or against me.”

“As to that, Jack, you must let me take my own course,” answered Mr Plumb.

I found that Dicky Plumb got considerably laughed at by his companions for what they called his uppishness, and his boasting of his various friends and relations of rank. Still, nothing would ever put him down.

“It is no fault of mine if my father happens to have a Duke for a cousin, or a Governor-General of India for a brother-in-law, or if he is intimate with the Prime Minister, or if the Queen herself holds him in high estimation; so I do not see why you chaps should laugh at me.”

“But, I say, Master Dicky,” exclaimed an old mate, Sampson Trueman by name, “is it a fact that your father has a cousin a Duke, and is brother-in-law to the Governor-General?”

“I ask you, Mr Trueman, whether it is becoming of you—a master’s mate in the British navy, and soon, I hope, should the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty be made aware of your superlative merits, to become a lieutenant—to call in question the word of another officer, notwithstanding that he may not be of your own exalted rank,” exclaimed Dicky, in his usual pompous manner. “I must decline answering those questions.”

There was a general laugh, in which Mr Trueman joined; and though, probably, the older members of the mess suspected that the gentleman had been romancing, others were still under the impression that he really possessed the exalted connections of whom he boasted.

Helped along by a fine steady breeze we made good progress, and at length reached the entrance to the river Hoogley. Dicky got leave to accompany the captain up to Calcutta. Whether or not he was received as a relative by the Governor-General no one in his own mess could ascertain. He dined, however, at Government House, but that might have been in consequence of some introduction sent out by Mrs Brigadier. She was, at all events, a person to take care that her son should not be overlooked. We did not remain there long before we received orders to make the best of our way on to China, where an expedition was engaged in teaching the Celestials to pay due respect to the outside barbarians, as they call the nations of Europe.

Chapter Six. We Reach the Flowery Land.

On a fine afternoon we found ourselves sailing into a beautiful bay, with high mountains rising up on either side. We soon dropped anchor off a town, which we found was the new English city of Victoria, in the island of Hong Kong, close to the mainland of China. A large number of other vessels were already at anchor, men-of-war, merchantmen, transports, and store-ships. The transports had on board a body of British troops destined, as Sergeant Turbot informed me, to teach the Chinese manners.

Before long, several of the officers and men from other ships of the squadron came aboard us, and soon told us what had been done, making us, of course, very eager to be engaged in similar exploits. Boxes, slippers, daggers, knives, and all sorts of articles were exhibited as trophies. The most highly prized were the Chinamen’s pigtails, which our men had cut off, they declared, when the enemy ran away. We had a busy time of it at Hong Kong. It was understood that there would probably be a good deal more fighting with the Chinese. The marines, of course, expected to be employed on shore. I could not help feeling, however, somewhat anxious for my friend, Sergeant Turbot; for in that climate to have to make a long march, or to storm a fort at the top of a hill, would, I thought, too likely prove fatal to him.

“We shall have some work, Jack, before long,” he observed to me; “and I have no doubt our corps will uphold its credit. These Chinese are curious fellows to fight with, I hear; for, though they are easily beaten, they don’t seem to find it out; they stop and fight till they are killed. I rather think, however, Jack, that you will be disappointed, as our ship is not likely to have much work to do herself, except, perhaps, attacking forts at the mouths of the rivers, or a big town or two near the sea. However, you will hear of it from those who are sent away in the boats, and I dare say we marines shall have something to talk about when we get back.”

A day or two after this, however, Mr Plumb stopped me outside the berth.

“Jack,” he said, “I have been appointed to a schooner—the _Fawn_—which is to be fitted out as a tender to the ship. Mr Ormsby, the third lieutenant, is to command her, and I have made up my mind to get you as one of her crew. Two or three boys are certain to be sent in her.”

I thanked Master Dicky for his kind intentions.

“If I am ordered to go, I must,” I observed, “but I would rather ask Sergeant Turbot what he thinks about the matter, if I am to have my choice.”

I told the sergeant.

“I don’t want to lose sight of you, boy; but, of course, you will see more of what is going forward if you go aboard the schooner, and you will get more seamanship, too, than you will in this big ship.”

I told Mr Plumb, the next time I saw him, what the sergeant said.

“Of course, I knew he would,” he answered, “and I will see about it, Jack.”

Whether Master Dicky had anything to do in the matter or not, I do not know; but I and Tommy Punchon were two of the boys selected to go on board the schooner.

The whole squadron soon after sailed, and proceeded to the mouth of the Canton River, where they astonished the Celestials by blowing their forts to pieces. The larger ships remained at the mouth of the river, while the smaller vessels, we among them, with a couple of steamers, were sent higher up. The Chinese did their best, of course, to bamboozle the diplomatists. However, those gentlemen saw enough to make them advise all the foreign merchants living at Canton to leave the place. They heard also that the Chinese had laid plans to destroy the English ships, and that a large army was also collecting, to meet our troops, should they land. We, with several other small men-of-war, corvettes, and brigs, lay high up the river. Generally speaking, the river is crowded with boats of every possible shape and fashion, moving up and down the stream. A vast number of people live in these boats, and merely go on shore occasionally to buy food, or to sell their fish or ducks, or the articles they may have brought from other places. At this time, however, not a boat was to be seen; they had all gone up the creeks, out of the way of the barbarians. At length the sun set gloomily, the sky was overcast, and the darkness increased, till it was difficult to see far beyond the bowsprit end. Our people were all ordered to remain on deck. The guns were loaded, and each man was armed. The boats were cleared, ready to be lowered as they hung at the davits, at a moment’s notice.

“Well, Jack, what do you think of it?” said Mr Plumb, who came forward where I was standing.

“I suppose something or other is going to happen,” I answered, “but I don’t know what.”

“Why, I will tell you,” he said; “the Chinese think they are going to catch a weasel asleep, but they are mistaken. They will find that they have only stirred up the British Lion with a long pole, and that he will not only roar, but make a spring which will astonish them. I have been anxious to have something to do, and I hope we are going to find it at last.”

Scarcely had he spoken, when the sentry from a vessel ahead of us hailed. He got no answer, it seemed, for he immediately fired. Directly he had done so, in the midst of the darkness, as it were, a bright light burst forth, blazing away furiously, and revealing a number of dark objects floating on the water. Instantly the drum sounded, beating to quarters. The Chinese had commenced their plan for destroying the English ships by fire-rafts. The boats of the squadron were seen immediately, pulling up the river, when, grappling the rafts, they towed them away clear of the ships. Some went on shore on one bank, some on the other. Some drifted down towards a village, the houses of which they immediately set on fire.

Dicky Plumb had jumped into one of the boats, and I, without orders, followed him. We steered away towards one of the rafts which seemed to be approaching the _Fawn_. Just as we got hold of it, it burst into flames; but, in spite of the heat, we got it clear of the vessel, and did not leave it till it was close in with the shore. And now, on all sides, were blazing up vast fires, some drifting about the river, others on shore where the rafts had struck; their light exhibiting the panic-stricken Chinese who had had charge of them, some trying to escape towards the shore, others swimming down the stream, those who could not swim standing on the deck till driven overboard by the heat; all the time a sharp fire being kept up at them by our marines, who, naturally, under such circumstances, showed them but little mercy. As the first body of fire-rafts had been towed clear, guns opened on us from the shore, the Chinese having erected several new batteries for that purpose. Now began the roar of artillery, though, in consequence of the darkness, the Chinese, not being able to distinguish the vessels, took but bad aim. We also could only find out the whereabouts of their batteries by the light of their guns, and the reflection of the fire from the burning houses on the shore. These showed us numerous Tartar officers hurrying about, and endeavouring to rally and encourage their men to fight the guns. We managed, as did other vessels, to escape damage, by alternately veering out cable and shortening it again, so as considerably to alter our position, and thus to deceive the Chinese gunners.

This sort of work continued till daylight. At length, when the sun rose in an unclouded sky, it exhibited to our sight a scene of havoc and destruction on either side. On the banks were the wrecks of the still burning fire-vessels; the batteries on shore knocked to pieces by our shot; the suburbs of the town, and several of the villages, in flames; while, here and there, a spar knocked away on board the vessels, or some other trifling damage, showed how we had been employed during the night. One of our active little steamers, soon after daylight, was some distance ahead, when a large junk made her appearance from round a point, and began firing away. The steamer very quickly put the junk to flight, when, at a signal made, the boats of the squadron were ordered to proceed after her. In a few minutes, some twenty men-of-war’s boats were pulling away, as hard as the crews could lay their backs to the oars. I, as before, jumped into Dicky Plumb’s boat, and she was away before I was discovered. No sooner had we rounded the point I have spoken of, than a whole fleet of war junks and boats of all sorts were found huddled together at no great distance. Instantly, we dashed at them. Many of the junks had soldiers on board, who, as soon as they saw us coming, did their best to get on shore, shoving off in small boats as fast as they could leap into them. Some, in their hurry, fell overboard. A considerable number had thus made their escape by the time we reached the scene of action. Some of the junks and boats were pulling away up the river. We, with other boats, made chase. The shot from the ships’ launches quickly set many of the junks on fire. As soon as we got up to a junk, we examined her carefully, to ascertain if anybody was on board, before we devoted her to the flames. In a short time, the whole water was covered with burning vessels, one after the other, those having powder on board blowing up with loud explosions. In spite of our humane intentions, there are so many hiding-places on board a Chinese junk, that nearly in every one several unfortunate fellows had concealed themselves. As the fires in creased, we saw them rushing up from below, where they would remain until no longer able to bear the heat on deck. Some then were seen to jump desperately overboard. Most of these swam on shore without much difficulty; but others, who apparently could not swim, remained clinging to the outside of the junk or the rudder. Here we saw them holding on till the junk blew up, or the heat compelled them to leave their last refuge.

When we could, we took them on board, but there were so many junks burning together that this was not always possible, and consequently a considerable number must have perished. We had got alongside a boat, not knowing what was on board her, when Dicky Plumb leaped on to her deck. I had followed him, when my eye caught sight of a little fizzing spot of light, just as if the end of a cigar had been thrown down. I saw the fire slowly working its way on. In an instant, it occurred to me that it was a slow match. Seizing my friend by the arm, I leaped back into the boat.

“Hillo, Jack! what do you mean by that?” he exclaimed in an indignant tone.

“Shove off!” I shouted, “and pull away!”

The men guessed what it was, and the boat had not got ten yards off, when up went the Chinese craft, on board which we had been a moment before, shivered into a thousand fragments. There were a number of similar boats near at hand, some of which caught fire, and blew up at the same moment.