Hunting the Skipper Part 25

"Why, you look like a Turk, t.i.tely," said Murray.

"Yes, I do, sir, don't I? Old Sam Mason's clipping away still. The other chaps liked mine so that they wanted theirs done the same. It's prime, sir, for this here climate."

"But your wound?" said Roberts.

"Don't talk about it, sir, or I shall be put upon the sick list, and it's quite hot enough without a fellow being shut up below. Noo canvas trousis, sir. Look prime, don't they?"

"But, t.i.tely," cried Murray, "surely you ought to be on the sick list?"

"I say, please don't say such a word," whispered the man, looking sharply round. "You'll be having the skipper and Mr Anderson hearing on you. I ain't no wuss than my messmates."

"No, I suppose not," said Roberts, "but--why, they seem to be all on deck."

"Course they are, sir," said the man, grinning. "There's nowt the matter with them but noo shirts and trousis, and they allers do chafe a bit."

Murray laughed.

"But you ought to be on the sick list."

"Oh, I say, sir, please don't! How would you young gentlemen like to be laid aside?"

"But what does the doctor say? Didn't he tell you that you ought to go into the sick bay?"

"Yes, sir," said the man, grinning; "but I gammoned him a bit."

"You cheated the doctor, sir!" said Roberts sternly.

"Well, sir, I didn't mean no harm," said the man, puckering up his face a little and wincing--"I only put it to him like this: said I should only fret if I went on the sick list, and lie there chewing more than was good for me."

"Well, and what did he say?"

"Told me I was a himpident scoundrel, sir, and that I was to go and see him every morning, and keep my left arm easy and not try to haul."

In fact, singeing, some ugly blisters, a certain number of hands that were bound up by the doctor, and a few orders as to their use--orders which proved to be forgotten at once--and a certain awkwardness of gait set down to the stiffness of the newly issued garments--those were all that were noticeable at the first glance round by the midshipmen, and apparently the whole crew were ready and fit to help in the efforts being made to get the sloop out of her unpleasant position in the mud of the giant river.

As for the men themselves, they were in the highest of spirits, and worked away hauling at cables and hoisting sail to such an extent that when the night wind came sweeping along the lower reaches of the river, the sloop careened over till it seemed as if she would dip her canvas in the swiftly flowing tide, but recovered almost to float upon an even keel. Twice more she lay over again, and then a hearty cheer rang out, for she rose after the last careen and then began to glide slowly out into deeper water, just as the captain gave orders for one of the bow guns to be fired.

"Why was that?" said Murray, who had been busy at his duties right aft.

"Didn't you see?"

"No. Not to cheer up the men because we were out of the mud?"

"Tchah! No. The n.i.g.g.e.rs were beginning to collect again ash.o.r.e there by that patch of unburned forest."

"I didn't see."

"That doesn't matter," said Roberts sourly; "but the blacks did, and felt too, I expect. Anyhow, they sloped off, and now I suppose we shall do the same while our shoes are good, for the skipper won't be happy till we're out to sea again."

"Here, what now?" said Murray excitedly. "What does this mean?"

"This" meant cheering and excitement and the issuing of orders which made the deck a busy scene, for the men were beat to quarters ready to meet what promised to be a serious attack. For in the evening light quite a fleet of large canoes crowded with men could be seen coming round a bend of the river, the blades dipping regularly and throwing up the water that flashed in the last rays of the sinking sun, while from end to end the long canoes bristled with spears, and the deep tones of a war song rhythmically accompanied the dipping of the paddles.

"Why, they must be three or four hundred strong, Anderson," said the captain. "Fully that, sir."

"Poor wretches!" muttered the captain. "I thought we had given them lesson enough for one day."

"Only enough to set them astir for revenge," said the lieutenant.

"Well, the lesson must be repeated," said the captain, shrugging his shoulders. "See what a shot will do with that leading canoe. We have come upon a warlike tribe, brave enough, or they would not dare to attack a vessel like this."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

DEALING WITH A FLEET.

"I know what I should do," said Murray, as, forgetting the smarting and stiffness from which he suffered, he stood watching the savage fleet steadily gliding down stream.

"What?" said Roberts.

"Get out of the river as soon as I could. We could sail right away now."

"Cowardly," grumbled Roberts. "Why, it would be throwing away the chance of giving the wretches a severe lesson."

"They've had one," said Murray, "and if we sink half-a-dozen of them they'll be ready enough to come on again."

"Then we could sink some more. Why, if you sailed away they'd think we were afraid of them."

"Let them! We know better. It seems a bit horrible with our great power to begin sending grape and canister scattering amongst these slight canoes."

"Oh yes, horrible enough; but they must be taught that they can't be allowed to make war upon other tribes and sell their prisoners into slavery."

"I suppose so," said the lad, with a sigh, possibly due to the pain he still felt from the late fight with the flames.

"Look at that," whispered Roberts excitedly. "Why, the skipper seems to think as you do."

For orders were given, the capstan manned, and the sloop glided towards the anchor by which they now swung, the sails began to fill and help the men in their task, and soon after the anchor stock appeared above the water.

It was quite time, for the canoes were nearing fast, and to the two midshipmen it appeared as if the enemy would be alongside and swarming aboard before their vessel had time to gather way.

"Why don't we fire, Frank?" said Roberts excitedly.

"Because we're not in command," replied Murray coolly, as he tried to measure mentally the length of time it would take for the leading canoe to reach them, rapidly advancing as it was in obedience to the l.u.s.ty strokes given by some thirty paddles which made the water foam on either side of the frail craft packed with men.

"But it's absurd. The skipper ought to have given the order long ago."

"And filled the surface with dead and dying men floating and struggling amongst the shattered pieces of the canoe?"

"Yes: why not? It's war, sir--war."