Chapter III: Part 3

Happily, we escaped without much hurt. We found fifty of a similar character, which had been prepared for the destruction of the English fleet. It was a curious scene—the Chinese craft, of all sizes, sailing, pulling, and paddling away in every direction, the English boats dashing here and there in pursuit. Sometimes a Chinaman would blow up just as one of our boats got alongside, and then we had to pull off after a different enemy. We had captured a good many junks, when, some way ahead, we saw what looked like a steamer. Though there was no steam up, the wheels were paddling away. We managed, however, to get up to her, when overboard jumped a number of people; and, on reaching her deck, we found that, though there were paddles outside, the inside had only wooden machinery, to be worked something like a treadmill by men. She managed, however, to go through the water at the rate of three or four knots an hour. Several similar sham steamers were captured, which had been manufactured by the Celestials, for the purpose of overawing us barbarians. The fighting for the day, however, was very far from finished. The troops had been landed, as well as the marines and brigades of blue jackets, and were now busily employed in storming the forts surrounding Canton. We had gone up a creek which ran near the base of a high hill, on the top of which was a fort. A party of marines and blue jackets had marched round by land, to attack it, and as we approached, we saw them charge up the hill. Mr Hanson, the mate, who commanded the boat, was very eager to join in the fray. We had a strong current against us. However, by dint of hard pulling, we managed at length to get up near the base of the hill. The Chinese at the top had made a gallant defence, and many of our people had already been killed or wounded, or knocked up by the heat. Among others, struggling up the side of the hill, I saw a marine, whom I knew by his red coat; his sword was in his mouth, and with hands and feet he was endeavouring to climb up the steep side of the hill. I guessed by his figure that he must be my friend Sergeant Turbot. I could almost fancy that I heard him puffing and groaning, as every now and then he looked up, and shouted to his men to lend him a hand. They, however, had dashed on, to get at the enemy; in fact, it seemed a wonder that he should have escaped hitherto with his life from the showers of shot which came sweeping down the hill-side. Just then, we saw, coming round the base of the hill, a strong body of Tartar troops, evidently intending to take our men in the rear.

“Now is the time, my lads!” shouted Mr Hanson, starting up.

It must be understood that we had been completely concealed from the enemy. With loud shouts and cries we all dashed forward together to attack the head of the enemy’s column. They, expecting that we were merely a leading body of blue jackets, turned tail, and retreated, with a greater rapidity than they had advanced, we keeping up a hot fire in their rear. I could not bear the thoughts of leaving my old friend in his present predicament, and, therefore, without stopping to ask leave, I scampered off to his assistance, forgetting all about the shower of bullets through which I had to pass. Happily, not one hit me, and I was soon by the sergeant’s side.

“Why, Jack, you seem to me like an angel from heaven!” he exclaimed, as he saw me. “Put your shoulder under me and help me up. Up I must go, but it was cruel to send me to storm such a hill. It is not fit work for a man of my figure; but, up! up!”

The sergeant had chosen a short cut, though a very steep one. By my aid, shoving astern, we had already made some progress, when part of the boat’s crew arrived, led on by Dicky Plumb.

“Oh, Mr Plumb, do get your men to lend me a hand and haul me up this place. We should be in the fort as soon as the rest, if we could but get up to the top of the cliff.”

I was not sorry, I confess, to have some assistance. By the aid of the men the sergeant at last reached a level spot at the summit of the hill.

“Now, my lads,” he shouted, taking his sword from his mouth, “we’ll be at them!”

The Chinese, believing that no one could get up that way, had neglected its defences. Led on, therefore, by the gallant sergeant, we all together made a dash into the fort. The enemy, taken on the flank, began to give way, and the main body of marines and bluejackets, making a renewed effort in front, dashed in over all obstacles, cutting down the defenders, who stood bravely at their guns till the last.

“Jack, Jack,” said the sergeant, when the fort was in our possession, “I owe you much. You saved my life, I believe, but you did more than that, you saved my honour.”

Before the day was over, not only Canton, but all the surrounding forts were in possession of the British. As Sergeant Turbot could descend the hill more easily than he could get up it, I wished him good-bye, and returned with my young officer to the boat. Poor Mr Hanson had received a wound in the leg, which had, I found, prevented him joining in the attack.

Chapter Seven. Our Cruise in the Junk.

Just as we got out of the creek we caught sight of a large junk stealing round a point at no great distance from us. Although Mr Hanson and one of the men were wounded, he instantly ordered us to give chase, and away we pulled after the junk, which as we rounded the point we saw was making for one of the innumerable canals which intersect the country in all directions. If she once got into it she might escape us. The men therefore bent to their oars with a right good will, apparently just as fresh, as when they left the schooner in the morning. As we approached the junk, the Chinese began firing at us with their gingals and swivels, and for a couple of minutes or more we were exposed to a pretty heavy shower of bullets. I got the rim of my hat taken off.

“No odds,” I cried out; “it’s better than the tip of my nose.”

A man near me had a shot through the fleshy part of his shoulder, and a dozen bullets or more stuck in the sides of our boat. On we dashed, however, right under the oars of the Chinaman.

“Come on, my lads?” shouted Dicky Plumb, whose blood was up to boiling pitch; and catching hold of a pike which was thrust at him, he hauled himself up on to the junk’s deck, four of our men climbing up at the same moment. Fortunately for Master Dicky, Ned Rawlings was by his side, and saved his head from a blow aimed at him by a Chinaman. Mr Hanson, in spite of his wound, got the men to haul him up. I followed close behind Mr Plumb, and in a few seconds we were all upon the deck of the Chinaman, slashing and cutting away. So frightened had the Chinese become at our proceedings in the morning, that very few stopped to oppose us, and scarcely had we gained the deck, than the crew began to jump overboard on the opposite side. In another minute not a Chinaman was left alive on the upper deck.

“Now, lads, let us look after them below!” shouted Mr Plumb, leading the way to the main deck. A considerable number of the crew had remained there, intent upon mischief. As they saw us, however, they made a bolt right forward and leaped through a large port, striking out for the shore, which was not more than thirty yards off.

“They have been after something or other,” cried Mr Plumb.

As he spoke, I sprang down to the deck below, and there I saw what looked like a thin snake of fire crawling along the deck. I rushed at it, and found the end of a slow match which had not long been lighted. To snatch it up and throw it overboard was the work of a moment. I was only just in time, however, and did not feel very comfortable even then, for it was leading down, through an opening in the deck, to what I had little doubt was the magazine. Ned Rawlings, who had followed me, sprang to where several buckets were hung up, and seizing one of them to which a rope was attached, in a moment he had it full of water, which he dashed down the opening into the magazine. Mr Hanson now ordered the cable of the junk to be cut, and sent the boat ahead to tow her out of the creek. There was no time to be lost, for a number of Chinese were collecting on the shore, some of them already beginning to take long shots at us. Four hands jumped into the boat with Mr Plumb, while two others, with Ned Rawlings and I, remained to assist Mr Hanson. As there were a number of small boats along the shore, the Chinese might easily have come back again; but they expected to see us blown up into the air, and the fear of the consequence kept them at a distance, and proved our safety.

At length, just as it was growing dusk, we got clear out into the harbour, when the wind proving fair, we hoisted the junk’s sails, and stood away towards where we expected to find the schooner. Several times we were chased by English boats, and were twice fired at by some of our friends, who supposed that our junk was still in the hands of the Chinese, who were endeavouring to escape. Our prize was indeed a curious craft; a capital place for playing hide-and-seek in—full of all sorts of odd little cabins and cupboards and recesses in which people could stow themselves away. Having found several lanterns, we lighted them, and Mr Dicky and I hunted throughout the vessel, in case any Chinese were still on board, who might steal out and perhaps after all blow up the vessel. We thought that we had looked into all the cabins and cupboards, and nooks and corners, and came and reported the same to Mr Hanson.

“Go and look again, Dicky,” he answered. “Take Rawlings with you, and let him run the point of his cutlass gently through all the crevices.”

Off we started again, Rawlings carrying a huge paper lantern, covered with dragons and other monsters, and having his cutlass ready to stick into any crevice we might discover. We began forward, examining all sorts of curious places, but no one was to be found there. At length we got aft, where we thought we had searched thoroughly, and came to a little cupboard in one of the quarters, into which Ned gently inserted the point of his weapon. A shrill cry, which made us start, was the result, and putting in his hand he hauled out a young Chinese boy, who had managed to coil himself away in a very small space. He seemed by his gestures to be entreating us not to kill him, and then gave us to understand that he was anxious to be our friend, and to serve us. Of course, not a word he said could we understand.

“Are there any more of you stowed away?” asked Ned; but if we did not understand the Chinese boy, neither did he understand us, and no answer could be got to this question.

Having looked about in the neighbourhood of the spot where we found the boy, we carried him on deck to Mr Hanson. He there went through the gestures he had made to us, and Mr Hanson signed to him to sit down on the deck, and let him know that he would receive no harm. We were then sent back to continue our search. No other person was, however, found, and at length we got alongside the schooner. We were received by a loud cheer from our shipmates, and Mr Ormsby ordered us to retain possession till he could inspect the junk in the morning, and settle what was to be done with her.

“But Mr Hanson is wounded, sir,” sung out Dicky Plumb; “and besides, sir, _we are hard up for grub_. The provisions the Chinese have left on board don’t look very tempting.”

Mr Hanson, with the other wounded man, was therefore ordered to go on board, that the assistant-surgeon might look to their hurts, while a supply of provisions was sent us from the schooner, Dicky Plumb thus remaining in command of the junk.

“Jack,” he said to me, “if I had my will, I should like to appoint you my first-lieutenant, for I think you know as much about seamanship as I do; but as that would not be quite correct, I am afraid I must have Ned Rawlings as my second in command. I only hope we may be ordered to take a cruise somewhere. It would be great fun going away by ourselves to look after prizes, would it not?”

I agreed with him, but observed that I did not think Mr Ormsby would dispatch us for that purpose. The next morning, when Mr Ormsby came on board, he declared that the junk we had taken was so fine a vessel that it would be a pity to destroy her, and therefore obtained leave to carry her off to Hong Kong.

“Can I remain in command of her, sir?” asked Dicky, touching his hat when Mr Ormsby had arrived at this decision.

The lieutenant looked at him with a smile.

“Why, Mr Plumb, what amount of navigation do you possess?”

“Why, sir,” said Dicky, promptly, “I know how to steer, and we can keep the _Fawn_ in sight, so she will serve as our pole-star.”

“But suppose it came on thick weather, and you lost sight of us?” observed the lieutenant.

“We would not rest till we had found you again,” answered Dicky, promptly.

“I suspect the _Fawn_ will outsail the junk, and then what will you do?”

“Ask every one we meet the whereabouts of Hong Kong,” answered Dicky.

“I have no doubt you would do your best,” said Mr Ormsby, “but still I cannot quite trust you. I must send Mr Hanson back, and I have no doubt that you will prove a very efficient first-lieutenant to him.”

With this Master Dicky was obliged to remain content, and, in a couple of days, Mr Hanson, having somewhat recovered his strength, came on board and took the command. Before many days were over the Chinese succeeded in bamboozling our plenipotentiaries; we gave up all we had won, and the fleet sailed away back to Hong Kong. We followed in the wake of the schooner, which had to shorten sail for us, when the wind was abeam; but at length it came aft, and we then kept very good way with her; indeed, she had to make all sail not to let us pass her. Our captive Chinese boy seemed very well reconciled to his fate. We could not make out what was his name, so we called him “Joss.” He was a merry, yellow-faced little chap, with the funniest pig-eyes imaginable. He seemed always ready to laugh, and sing, and dance about the deck. It was very evident that he would pick up English sooner than any of us were likely to learn a word of Chinese. In the course of a few days, indeed, he could ask for all sorts of things, and seemed to know a great deal that was said to him. I should say Mr Hanson spoke very handsomely of the way Dicky Plumb had behaved in boarding the Chinese, and told Mr Ormsby that he had been the first on deck, and how gallantly he had behaved also on shore, when attacking the fort. I found, also, that he made favourable mention of my conduct on both occasions.

“Indeed, had it not been for Junker,” I heard that he observed, “we might all of us have been blown into the other world.” Mr Ormsby had said that he should report my conduct to the captain, who would be sure not to let it pass unnoticed. Dicky told me all this.

“I was very glad of it, Jack,” he said. “To tell you the truth, I have an idea in my head. What it is, I am not going to tell you; only, Jack, if I am ever a captain, I should like to have you as my first-lieutenant.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said, “for your kind wishes, but I am afraid such good luck is not in store for me.”

At length, our junk, with several others that had been captured, reached Hong Kong in safety. The harbour was crowded with vessels. There must have been a hundred or more craft, of various sorts, from line-of-battle ships down to schooners and cutters, and a variety of Chinese and other foreign-rigged vessels.

Chapter Eight. A Typhoon and a Shipwreck.

The junk lay in Hong Kong harbour, close to the _Fawn_. Soon after we brought up in the harbour, finding that a boat was to be sent from the _Fawn_ to the _Roarer_, I got leave to go in her. I had some misgivings about Sergeant Turbot, and was anxious to see him. I found that he was in the sick bay, where there were several wounded men. He shook me warmly by the hand when he saw me.

“Jack, my boy,” he said, “you saved my life t’other day, and, what is more, my honour. If it had not been for you, my fellows would have got into that Chinese fort while I was at the bottom of the hill; but Jack, I confess it, I feel I am not cut out for campaigning in a hilly country; indeed, to advance, at double-quick, across a plain, tries me considerably.”

I was afraid, from the sergeant’s way of talking, that he was very ill. I made some remark to that effect.

“In honest truth, Jack,” he answered, “I was pretty well knocked up altogether with that work on shore; what with the hot sun, the rapid marching, and climbing those heights; but still, Jack, I don’t think I am going to give in just yet. If I do, remember me to your father, and tell him that I consider you are worthy of him. However, I hope to be fit for duty in the course of a few days, and to have another pull at the Chinamen’s pigtails before we have done with them.”

From what I could hear on board I found that our business in the boat and capture of the junk was highly approved of. Our captain, with several of the boats of the _Roarer_, had been engaged, and he had behaved with great bravery and activity. I was glad to find, that in the course of a few days Sergeant Turbot was much better. His gallantry was well known, and Dicky Plumb told me that he had heard the captain of marines on board say that in future he would take care that he was not sent on an expedition where any great bodily exertion was required. We had been some time off Hong Kong, and began to grow weary of not having more to do. The weather had now become excessively hot and sultry. Dark black clouds collected in the sky, and there was an oppression in the atmosphere which made all hands feel uncomfortable. The weather-wise predicted a typhoon. I asked Sergeant Turbot, the last visit I paid him, the meaning of a typhoon.

“Why, Jack, you must know that a typhoon is just like ten everyday gales of wind pressed into one,” he replied. “If a fellow is aloft he has need to hold on with his eyelids, teeth, and nails; and if he’s on shore, to look out for falling chimneys and roofs. If we get one—and from what I hear there’s every chance of it—you’ll know what it is fast enough, and not forget either, as long as you live.”

The barometer, too, supporting the opinion of the weather-wise, was falling, indicating a change of weather. Meantime, the Chinese on shore seemed to be greatly excited. We saw, stuck out from many of their houses, long poles, twenty or thirty feet high, with huge lanterns at the end of them, ornamented with grotesque-looking figures of various sorts. Then began the beating of gongs, the firing of crackers, and the explosion of little bamboo petards, from one end of the town to the other, and from all the boats along the shore. The Chinese might possibly have thought that their fireworks had produced some effect, for the day passed by and no typhoon broke over us. At night, however, dark clouds again collected overhead, out of which the most vivid lightning shot incessantly. For an instant the whole sky was lighted up, and the numerous vessels in the harbour, and the distant shores, could be seen clearly. Then all again was pitchy darkness. The night passed away, however, without any incident worthy of note. In the morning, Mr Ormsby, who had been on board the _Roarer_, came back, and said that he had received orders to convey the junk to Macao.

“Then I am afraid our independent cruise will be up,” I heard Mr Plumb observe to Mr Hanson.

We accordingly got under weigh, and stood out of the harbour. We had not, however, proceeded far, when the threatening appearances of the weather returned. Again the clouds collected, the lightning flashed vividly, and sudden gusts came furiously off the land. Mr Ormsby hailed, and ordered us to bring up under the high shore, a couple of miles to windward, he setting us the example. A few tacks brought the _Fawn_ to an anchorage, when her topmasts were struck, and every preparation was made for the typhoon, which, it was now evident, was about to commence. We were some way astern of the schooner, when down came a fierce blast with tremendous force upon us. The sails were lowered, and the huge anchor let go.

“The craft will ride it out after all, I believe,” said Mr Hanson, watching to ascertain whether the junk was driving.

“That’s more than any other ship will do,” observed Ned Rawlings, pointing to the vessels in the distance, many of which were now driving away furiously before the wind; and already the sea was covered with the wrecks of native vessels, to which numerous persons—both men and women and children—were clinging desperately, as they drove onward before the wind.

Fearful must have been the destruction of life and property in that crowded harbour. However, we had to think about ourselves. The typhoon was increasing in fury; it seemed to be working itself up like a man getting into a rage. A blast ten times stronger than the first now struck us.

“She has parted, sir,” cried Ned Rawlings.

Away we drove before the wind. At first we went sideways, and it seemed as if every instant we should be blown over. The helm however, was put up, and away we drifted right before the gale; the farther we got from the shore the higher the seas became, and the stronger the wind. Mr Hanson looked grave; there was good reason for his so doing, for the junk began to pitch and roll in the most furious manner, while the seas danced up round her, seeming determined to come on board. At times, it seemed scarcely possible that we could hold on to her deck; we felt somewhat like peas on a drum—jumping up and down, with the prospect of being jerked overboard every instant. As to setting sail, that was impossible; for even had a foot of the bamboo-matting been presented to the wind it would have been blown away. The junk, flimsy as she looked outside, was strongly built, so that there was less risk of her going to pieces than might have been supposed. I asked Rawlings what he thought about the matter.

“Well, Jack,” he said, “if we can keep the open sea the old tea-chest may float; but if we get the coast under our lee we shall drive ashore and go to pieces.”

More than once Mr Hanson looked astern.

“Perhaps he hopes that the _Fawn_ will come after us,” I observed to Rawlings.

“That’s not likely,” was the answer. “It would not do to risk the loss of the schooner on the chance of helping us; and, to my mind, there’s little help any vessel can give us.”

Had, indeed, the schooner been following, we might not have seen her; for, so thick was the spray which drove over us, that we could scarcely see many yards beyond the junk, all the time the wind howling and shrieking, and the water hissing and foaming around us. We could do nothing to help ourselves; indeed, it took all our strength just to hold on to the side. Every now and then a huge sea would come rolling up, and seem about to break on board, but the buoyant junk rose to the top of it, and then again down we plunged into the deep trough below.

Mr Hanson and two of the men stood at the helm, trying to steer the lumbering craft, and not without difficulty could they prevent her from broaching-to. Dicky Plumb had done his best to keep his legs, but, finding that impossible, at length sat down on the deck, holding on, and endeavouring to look as unconcerned and cool as possible. As we looked out we could see fragments of wreck floating by, showing us what would, too probably, be our fate. We passed one large junk almost under water, to which several people were clinging; they held out their hands to us, asking for assistance, but we could give them none, and soon we drove by, when they were hid from our sight by the driving spray. On we went.

“Breakers ahead!” shouted Ned Rawlings, who had been looking out.

There appeared, right before us, a line of coast—to weather it, seemed impossible; and yet, if we could not do so, our destruction was inevitable. At length we made out a point of land on the port bow—we were driving towards it—Mr Hanson put the helm as much as he could to starboard.

“If we can get to the other side of that,” he observed to Mr Plumb, “we may escape with our lives; if not, there’s not a chance for us.”

“It cannot be helped,” answered Mr Dicky, quite composedly. “We have done our best, and can do no more.”

Closer and closer we drew to the wild rocks at the end of the point; the surf was breaking furiously over them. I know I held my breath, and I cannot exactly say how I felt; only I kept wishing something was over. There were the rocks, and there was the fearful surf roaring over them. In another instant we were in the midst of the surf; I expected to hear a crash, and to find the vessel going to pieces. The water came rushing over our decks; the masses of spray blinded us. On we flew, and in another moment the point was passed; and though the sea broke heavily on the shore, still there was a possibility of our landing on it. We had no anchors remaining, so we could not bring up, even could any anchor have held; shipwreck was certain. The only doubt was where we should strike—that was settled in another minute—lifted high on a roller we were hurled towards the shore; then suddenly down we came with a tremendous crash; the masts instantly fell; the upper works were washed away; with difficulty could we hold on to the wreck.

“Now, Jack, let’s see what you can do,” exclaimed Ned Rawlings. “There’s not a better swimmer on board!”

I understood what was wanted. Ned got hold of a rope, which I fastened round my waist.

“I’ll carry it ashore,” I cried out.

“Let me go, too,” cried Dicky Plumb, forgetting that he could not swim.

There was no time for thought. I dashed overboard, and struck out for the shore; I ran a great risk of being knocked on the head by pieces of the wreck; I knew that several passed close to me. Now the sea came roaring up, and, passing over the vessel, sent me some way towards the shore; as it receded, however, it carried me back again almost to the junk; still I struggled on; the next sea which came up took me still nearer, and, though I went back again, still I had gained some distance; at last, I felt my feet touch the ground, then I seemed about to be swept back again, but I struggled on, and with a wild spring, clutching the sand with my hands, I resisted the receding water, which came hissing and foaming around me; then with a few more desperate struggles I found myself out of the reach of the sea. Near me was a pointed rock; round it I securely fastened the rope. In the meantime, three or four men had thrown themselves into the water; one poor fellow was swept out, his dying shriek reaching my ear just as I landed; another was holding on desperately to a piece of the wreck; two more came on shore, but greatly exhausted. I saw Rawlings making signals to me to haul in the rope; I began to haul away, but the rope he had secured to the light one I took on shore was so heavy that I could not accomplish the task; just then I was joined by my two shipmates, and all three of us pulling away at the rope, we got it on shore; the end was secured, as the lighter one had been, round the rock; and the first person who tried it was Rawlings. I found that he had secured a couple of travellers to the rope.

“I will go back,” he said, “and bring Mr Plumb. Mr Hanson will not leave the vessel till all are on shore, I know.”

Master Dicky, however, was for coming entirely by himself; still, I think he would have been washed off had not Rawlings gone to his assistance. Little Joss, the Chinese boy, clambered along as actively as a monkey. There was more difficulty in getting Mr Hanson on shore, as he had scarcely quite recovered from his wounds. Not a moment after he left the junk a sea came roaring up, and in an instant she split into a thousand fragments; not a particle of her remained holding together on the rock on which she struck; the same sea tore the poor fellow who had been clinging to a piece of the wreck from his hold, and he was washed away, no more to be seen. The remainder of us clambered up away from the beach, where we sat down to consult what was best to be done. It was now growing dark; not a house or shelter of any sort could we see.

“We shall all perish if we spend the night exposed to this bitter blast,” said Mr Hanson. “Lads, we must look out for some place or other for shelter,” and saying this, he led the way further inland, where a lofty cliff appeared before us.

Searching about, we found an opening in the rock, down the centre of which a stream flowed, running on towards the sea. Here we were somewhat sheltered from the wind, but it was open at the top, so that the air even here felt very cold.

Chapter Nine. Captured by the Celestials.

The night passed slowly by. We were very hungry and very cold. I had the satisfaction of having my praises sung by my commander.

“Indeed, Junker, I am ready to confess that we owe our lives to you,” said Mr Hanson. “It required no little courage to carry the rope on shore in the way you did.”

I made a suitable, and, I hope, modest reply.

There was no room to lie down, so we all had to sit up and do our best to keep our feet out of the stream. As the morning broke the typhoon subsided, and at last we went out of our resting-place to look about us. The whole shore was lined with pieces of wreck. One of the poor fellows who had been drowned had been thrown up, but the bodies of the others could not be seen. We most of us had become desperately hungry: I know I was. Where to get food was the question. Hunting along the beach, however, we found a ham and a small keg of biscuits. We soon fell to on them. Though the biscuits were somewhat soaked with water, in a short time there was little of either one or the other to be seen. Mr Hanson said that we were on an island, but how we were to get away was the question. We could only hope that the _Fawn_ might come and look out for us, on the possibility of our having escaped. We had just finished our breakfast, when we heard some cries above our heads, and, looking up, we saw a number of Chinese, who were amusing themselves by gazing down on us. We asked Joss who they were.

“Bad people! bad people!” he answered, shaking his head.

They seemed in a short time to have gained courage, and now some thirty or forty men, dressed like common fishermen, came down from the heights, and stood round us. Seeing that we were unarmed, they became familiar, and presently one of them signed to Mr Hanson to take off his coat. This he did, hoping to satisfy them. No sooner did they get it, than they set up a shout and laugh, and then signified to Dicky Plumb to do the same.

“I will do no such thing,” he answered, buttoning up his jacket.

On this a couple of fellows seized him and tore it open, and in another minute hauled it off his back, in spite of his indignant expostulations. Pleased at their success, they treated us all in the same way, leaving us only our shirts and trousers. Mr Hanson at length got hold of one of the men who appeared to be a leader among them, and endeavoured by signs to explain that if he would take us back to Hong Kong he should be handsomely rewarded. Little Joss, who was very quick in understanding our meaning, came to our assistance. At length the man agreed to take us for a hundred dollars a head. We had, however, to wait for a considerable time before the weather moderated sufficiently, and we were then all marched to the harbour, at some distance from the place where we drove on shore. Here another dispute arose among our captors. The owners of different boats considered that we ought to be divided among them. Finally, Mr Dicky Plumb, with Ned Rawlings and I, with little Joss, fell to the share of an old fellow with a remarkably roguish expression of countenance. We, however, could not help ourselves, and could only hope that the promise of the reward would induce him to take us back safely. In the evening we were carried on board different junks. Our boat was open amidships, with a small cabin aft, into which we were all stowed. Here we spent the night, for we saw from the first that our friends had no intention of getting under weigh till daylight. The other junks sailed first, but our old captain showed no disposition to follow them. We inquired why he did not sail with the others, but he only grinned and shook his head at us. He was waiting apparently for some of his crew. At length we got under weigh; and now we began to hope that before the next morning we should find ourselves at Hong Kong. We had not been at sea more than an hour when, coming round a point, there appeared a large mandarin war junk. Our old captain was evidently in great trepidation. Still he sailed on as before, hoping that the mandarin junk would not overhaul us. A signal, however, from her was seen, ordering us to heave-to. On this the old captain made signs to us to lie down at the bottom of the boat, and he then covered us up with mats. On came the junk. What was going to happen we could not tell. Presently we heard loud voices and shouts, and we felt that a boat had come alongside. We might well have given ourselves up for lost.

“Jack,” whispered Mr Plumb to me, “if we could but get hold of some swords, we would have a fight for it. I should like to die game. I have no idea of being killed like a rat in a hole.”

I felt very much as he did, but while there was a chance of escaping notice, I saw that it would be wiser to remain concealed. Presently, however, we found the mats being lifted up off us; concealment was no longer possible. We sprang to our feet, and there we saw a dozen Chinamen, with weapons in their hands, ready to cut us down, should we attempt resistance. Their officer turned upon our unfortunate old captain, who stood at the helm the picture of dismay; the crew were sitting forward, chattering with fear; without another word the officer gave a flourish with his sword, and the old man’s head rolled off into the sea; the crew attempted to leap overboard, but were mercilessly cut down. We fully expected to be treated in the same way; instead of this, the boat was brought alongside the junk, on board of which we were all ordered to go. The junk having cast off the fishing-boat, with the body of her murdered owner still on board, and those of several of the crew, made sail to the east. What was to be done with us we could not say. With oars and sails the junk made great progress. Our only hope rested on the possibility of being fallen in with by a man-of-war; but even then, if hard pressed, our captors were very likely to murder us all. Having got clear of the land, the junk stood away to the north. We three were thrust into a little cabin on one side of the deck, so small, that only one could lie down at a time; Joss, however, was allowed to come to us, and wander about the deck as he liked. How he had escaped we could not well tell; and now it seemed that no one intended to injure him. He told us, that, as far as he could make out, we were going to some place in the north, a long way off. We suspected that the captain of the junk intended to make the most of us, and would probably declare that, he had taken us from aboard a barbarian man-of-war, we being the only survivors.

“I do not at all like the look of things, Jack,” said Dicky Plumb to me. “I am afraid they will be clapping us into cages, and sending us about the country as a show.”

“That will be one way of seeing the world,” I answered; “and provided they do not cut off our heads, I dare say, some day or other, we shall be getting back to our friends.”

Day after day we sailed on; in vain we looked out for an English man-of-war.

“Very little chance of falling in with one,” observed Ned Rawlings. “After that typhoon they will all be in harbour, repairing damages.”

Ned was right. It was probably owing to that circumstance that we escaped recapture. At length we entered the mouth of a large river, and Joss made us understand that we were being carried to the city of Nankin; we were, in reality, in the great river Yang-tse-Kiang. From the time we had been coming we knew that it must be a long way from Hong Kong, and our hopes of being retaken now vanished altogether: the wind coming down the river, the junk came to an anchor. I should have said that all this time our only food was salt fish and rice. When we anchored, several boats brought off some vegetables, which we had given to us in addition; it was hard fare, however, but after all it did not much signify, as it kept body and soul together, and our health did not suffer. The mandarin, being anxious, apparently, to deliver the despatches which he carried, as well as to exhibit us, took us on shore, and we were now all three placed in a cart, and driven off into the interior; as there were no springs, we went bumping and thumping over the road in a way sufficient to dislocate all our limbs. Just as we were starting, little Joss, who had managed to get on shore, jumped into the cart, and we were not sorry to see his merry, good-natured face. To make a long story short, at last we arrived at a walled city; it was not Nankin, however, but a place supposed to be very strong—Chin Kiang-foo; it was full of Tartar soldiers, who scowled at us as we passed. We had not gone far when we stopped before a sort of public office, I suppose, when a man came out and put some large labels round our necks. What they were of course we could not tell, but we made out from what Joss said, that they were to inform the world, that we were prisoners taken in a bloody fight from an English war ship, which had been sent, by the bravery of the Chinese, to the bottom. Having been carried round the city, we were taken to a place which we soon found was the public prison; here we were all four (for Joss was with us) thrown into a small cell not much larger than our cabin on board the junk.

“No chance of cutting our way out, Mr Plumb,” observed Ned Rawlings.

“I wish there was,” said Mr Plumb.

Little Joss we found looking very sad. He seemed, from what we made out, to think we were all going to be killed.

“It cannot be helped,” said Dicky. “Jack, are you prepared to die?”

“I hope so,” I said; “but I would rather live, I confess; and, do you know, I think we shall, in spite of appearances. The Chinamen would gain nothing by killing us, and our keep cannot cost them much.”

By such remarks I soon restored Dicky’s hopes. We were kept for some days in our wretched little prison, having our food brought to us, but being otherwise left alone; at length, one day, the door opened, and four soldiers appeared: without saying a word, they seized hold of Ned; he shook himself free of them, however, having an idea, that they were going to take him out and kill him. Four finding they could not manage him, six more appeared, who, rushing on him, at length pinioned his arms, and carried him away out of the cell.

“I hope they will not separate us, Jack,” said Dicky. “I am very unhappy about Ned.”

“I hope they will not indeed,” I answered. Poor Ned! though he made no further resistance as long as we could see him, the Chinese soldiers were kicking and cuffing him, some pulling his hair, and others his ears, as they dragged him along. Two days afterwards we received a visit from a dozen soldiers at least. They stopped for a moment when the door was opened, and then rushing in seized the midshipman, and pinioning his arms, dragged him out of the cell.

“Good-bye, Jack?” he shouted out. “I suppose they are going to cut my head off. It is reputed to be a dignified way of making an exit, and if I cannot escape, I must grin and bear it.”

Even at that moment, Dicky could not help having a joke. I felt very sad when I was left alone, for it seemed too likely that our cruel captors would kill us all. At length my turn came, but I was only honoured by six soldiers, who appeared to think that they could manage me without much difficulty. I tried to sing, and appeared as merry as possible, even when they came round me, knowing that kicking and scratching would do no good. Still, I own I had an uncomfortable feeling about my throat, fully believing that before long I was to have my head cut off. One of them, however, clapped an iron collar round my neck, from which a chain extended to my feet. On my ankles irons were also fixed, so that, had I been a very Samson, I could scarcely have escaped. In this state the soldiers dragged me along, and passing through several courts, I was carried into a house, where, seated at a table, I found several dignified-looking personages, with scribes at either side of them, pen in hand, ready to make notes. They began by asking me all sorts of questions, to which, of course, not knowing a word they said, I could make no answers. At this, several persons rushing forward, one gave me an unpleasant kicking behind my knees, while another pressed me down, a third seizing my head and banging my nose on the ground. This process did not make me speak Chinese a bit better than at first. I guessed it was what my companions in captivity had had to go through, and I fully expected to be led off and treated as I supposed they had been. Instead of this, after I had received a considerable number of blows and kicks, the mandarins, finding that they could make nothing of me, ordered me back to my cell. For some hours afterwards I kept constantly feeling my neck—not quite certain whether or not it had been cut through with a fine-edged sabre, and almost expecting every now and then to find my head roll off on to the ground.

Chapter Ten. Liberty Again.

Days and weeks passed away. I was kept in a solitary cell. Even Joss was not allowed to visit me. I feared, indeed, that he must have been killed. Of what had become of my companions I could gain no tidings. “They have not killed me, perhaps they have let them live.” This reasoning was the only thing that gave me hopes. I must confess, however, it was a hard matter to keep up my spirits. The iron chains on my neck and arms weighed me down. I was now moved into a cell in which were two dozen or more prisoners. In it was a bench, to which I was chained, but in such a way as to allow me to sit, if not with ease, at all events without pain. My youth might, perhaps, have excited the compassion of my fellow-prisoners, for savage as some of them looked, they treated me with kindness. Had I been sure that my friends were even no worse off than I was, I should have been contented. Many of the poor prisoners were suffering from all sorts of complaints, and several of them were led out from time to time, when we could hear their cries and shrieks, and when they came back their legs and arms and bodies bore signs of the fearful treatment they had received. Twice a day my fellow-prisoners and I were unchained and allowed to go into the courtyard for air and exercise. Sometimes we were allowed to remain there longer than at other times. On one occasion we were hurried back and quickly chained up again, when we found that it was in consequence of the unexpected visit of a mandarin to the prison. In vain I tried to find out whether Dicky Plumb or Ned Rawlings were alive. At last it struck me that if they were within hearing they might answer if I were to sing a song; so, to the astonishment of my fellow-prisoners, I suddenly struck up “Rule Britannia?” walking about the yard, and shouting louder and louder. They, I believe, thought I was mad. I stopped and listened. I thought I heard a faint response from another part of the building, but I was not certain. Several days passed by, when, as I sat on the bench, chained as usual, I heard a voice in the courtyard below humming the very air I had sung, but whether it was the voice of Dicky Plumb or Ned Rawlings I could not tell; indeed, it seemed to me to be that of a stranger. I had lost all account of the time I had been in prison, when one day I remarked that there was a considerable excitement exhibited by my companions. That something of importance was taking place I was certain. Suddenly, at the time we were usually taken into the yard in the morning, the sound of musketry reached my ears. Faint at first, it grew louder and louder. Then there came the roar of big guns. Oh, how I longed to be with Dicky Plumb or Ned Rawlings! There could be no doubt that the English were attacking the place. It did not occur to me that in revenge the Chinese might cut off our heads. The noise grew louder and louder. Presently I could hear shouts and cries, and bullets seemed pattering against some of the buildings in the neighbourhood. The city was attacked—of that there could be no doubt. I could not help shouting out again “Rule Britannia!” The Chinese looked at me with great awe; they must have fancied it an incantation. The hubbub increased; there was evidently some desperate fighting close at hand. Suddenly two of the gaolers rushed into the cell, and came up to me. I could not help fancying that my last moment had come. Instead of that, greatly to my satisfaction, they undid my fetters, then made a sign to me to follow them. I did so gladly enough, and in the courtyard whom should I see but Dicky Plumb himself! We cordially shook hands.

“I am so glad, Jack!” he exclaimed. “To this moment I did not know whether you were alive or dead.”

“Nor I you,” I answered. Directly afterwards we were joined by Ned Rawlings, who seemed well pleased to see us both again, while little Joss, who soon afterwards appeared, exhibited the greatest possible satisfaction. Directly afterwards the gates were thrown open, the Chinese scampered off and hid themselves, and in rushed a body of blue jackets, among whom I recognised several of the crew of the _Fawn_. Supposing that we had long been dead, they did not know us; indeed, pale and thin and dirty as we were, this was not surprising. The whole place was, in a short time, in the power of the British. The Tartar soldiers fought desperately, and when they found they could no longer defend their houses, they deliberately killed their wives and children, and then destroyed themselves. Several of the superior officers, rather than be taken, threw themselves upon their swords. Others, however, who had heard that the English treated their prisoners with humanity, if they could not run away, more wisely lived “to fight another day.”