The Ocean Cat's Paw

Chapter 44

"That's right; and before I go I just want to say it was very thoughtful of you to promise that the lads shouldn't have any drink. I got into several rows when I was young and green, and went ash.o.r.e with boats'

crews. They used to try on all sorts of dodges to get away to the public-house. I say, get that uncle of yours to stop about here fis.h.i.+ng for a bit. I want to get you aboard the _Di_ and spend an evening with us at the mess. Do. I shall get to like you."

"All right; I will try," said Rodd. "It wouldn't be the first time I've been aboard a man-of-war."

"Eh? Where?"

"Plymouth harbour."

"Oh yes, I forgot. That's where you live when you are at home. Why don't you join altogether? You are just cut out for a middy."

"Couldn't leave uncle. Going to be a naturalist."

"A what?"

"Scientific gentleman."

"But serve the King!"

"What, and be sent down here hunting after the blackbirding blackguards?"

"Pshaw! That's not really what we are here for; only if we see a suspicious-looking craft we board her."

"Then what are you here for?"

"King's business. Mum. Mustn't say."

"Now, Mr Lindon! Good-evening, Captain Chubb; and good-evening, doctor. Glad to have met you, sir, and I hope you won't put me down in your black books as _h.o.m.o durissimus_, or some other scientific name.

Give way, my lads. Mr Lindon! Do you want to be left behind?"

"All right, sir," cried the middy, springing into the boat and coming down into the arms of a couple of the men. "Good-night, Harding! We shall expect you on board the _Di_."

Down dropped the oars on either side, and then splash, splash, in regular movement the blades tossed up the beautiful pale lambent water, while here and there they broke up the reflection of the stars that were gradually appearing in the soft violet sky, while the boat glided on farther and farther from the schooner, making its way towards the lights of the sloop, from which all of a sudden there was a sharp flash, followed at a perceptible interval by the report of a musket.

This was answered a few seconds later by a flash and smart crack from the sloop's cutter, whose course Rodd leaned over the side to watch till it was invisible, when he turned from the side, to find Joe Cross waiting and evidently watching him.

"Rather close shave, sir," he said. "I began to feel as if some of us was going to have our 'oliday come to an end. Wouldn't have been so bad, though, for there are some very jolly fellows there, and it aren't half a dusty life aboard a man-of-war when you have got over the first few days, and being what they calls homesick. Aren't no fear of their coming back for us, is there?"

"Not the least, Joe. You are all safe enough."

"We are a-going to give the doctor, sir, such a cheer when he comes on deck again--three times three, and one in for you. My word, sir, the lads did laugh to see you take the starch out of that there young reefer! It was fine!"

"Oh, never mind about that, Joe. But I say, you have been aboard a man-of-war. What would a sloop like that be doing down here?"

"Why, you know, sir; looking after the blackbird catchers--the slavers."

"Oh no; they are not on this station for that."

"Must be, sir."

"No, Joe."

"Well, but, sir, you heard what the lufftenant said to our old man.

That's what they were after, sir, and a bit disappointed too, until you and the doctor made them so friendly. They thought they'd got hold of this fine craft, nice little prize, for she'd sell well just as she stands after being condemned. Handy little bit of pocket-money for them in these days when the war is over. Rather a puzzler to them at first.

The second luff--that's what he was--had never tackled a natural history craft before, and he wouldn't believe it. That's what they are here for, sir, trying

"Well?" said Rodd. "And they beat you back?"

"That they did, sir. Took us quite by surprise. We never thought they would have the cheek to resist; and we lay off, rubbing our sore ears and growling and spitting like angry cats, not knowing what to do, feeling that we should get worse off if we pursued, and ashamed to go back to face our old man; and just as we were feeling at our worst we knew that our skipper had been watching us all the time with his gla.s.s, and there was our launch coming full swing, chock-full of men showing their teeth. That set us all up again, and we were like new men. Round went our boat's head, and we were off in full pursuit of the slaver, the lads pulling so hard that we got alongside before the launch could overtake us, swarmed over her low gunwale, and went at the slaver's crew tooth and nail, so savage that every man of us showed them the cutla.s.s practice in fine style, driving them back step by step till if we had had strength enough we should have driven them overboard or down below; but they were too strong for us. Put half-a-pound weight in a scale, sir, if there's a pound in t'other it is too much for it, and so it was here, sir. We boarded her from the starn, and had driven them right up into the bows, but being a bit india-rubbery, when they could get no farther they bounced back on us and we were being driven step by step along the deck, farther and farther aft, till they gathered theirselves together with a rush, yelling like demons, and the next thing would have been that such of us as could stand would have been driven over into our boat again. But there was a regular hearty British cheer when we least expected it, for we had forgotten all about our other boat, and there were the launchers swarming over her bows and taking them in the rear.

That made our lads take heart again. We cheered back, and charged, and there were the slavers, blacks, half-breeds and Portuguese, took, as you might say, between the jaws of a big rat-trap, every one of whose teeth was a British sailor; and to save being chopped in two, down they all tumbled into the slaver's hold, trapped themselves like the poor wretches the hold was packed with. My word, Mr Rodd, sir, there are some things as a fellow never can forget, and that was one of them. It was just awful, sir!"

"What, did you kill them all?" cried Rodd, horror-stricken.

"Nay, sir, not one. We might have killed some of them if they had kept on showing fight; and I don't say, mind you, as some of them hadn't got some very awkward cuts, for when a British tar's fighting in a good cause, and been knocked about till his monkey's well up, his habit is to hit hard; but there, as soon as we had driven that lot below they chucked their knives and axes and pikes away and began to howl for mercy. What I meant was so awful was that place down below--that there hold with the slaver's crew trampling about and trying to hide themselves amongst the chained-up cargo. Awful aren't the word for it, sir! The lads couldn't stand it: let alone the sick and dying, there were some there that must have been dead for days, and that in a close hold in a sea like this! But I believe it was much hotter. Even the slaver's crew themselves begged to be let out--and there, I won't say any more about it. It was quite time even then that our old country began to put a stop to the slave trade, and I am sorry to say they aren't done it yet. That's what made us chaps to-night so free-and-easy with that there boat's crew. You see, you can't help liking fellows who are trying to put a stop to things like that."

"No, Joe, of course not. But that's not what they are down here for."

"Who says so, sir?"

"Why, that mids.h.i.+pman, Mr Lindon, told me so."

"Well, he ought to know, sir. What did he say they were here for, then?"

"He didn't say, only that it was private and he couldn't speak."

"Well, I don't know, then, only a man-of-war wouldn't be down here for nothing; that's pretty sure. Maybe we shall run into company with them again some day, and then I dare say we shall know. They gave us lads a fright, but I aren't sorry we met them, sir, for it was a bit of a change. Yes, Mr Rodd, sir, they are down here on some business pertickler secret and sealed orders; but you wait a bit, sir, and I dare say one of these days you'll find out."

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

OH, MURTHER!

Rodd was early on deck next morning for his bath, which consisted of so many buckets of water fresh fished up and dashed upon him by the men as a makes.h.i.+ft, consequent upon Captain Chubb telling him that he could not have any swims on account of the sharks. "Can't spare you, my lad," he had said. "But I haven't seen a shark," grumbled Rodd. "No, my lad, but they would very soon see you. You never know where those gentlemen are."

So Rodd went on deck when sea and sky looked dim and a faint mist lay low upon the surface of the ocean, making everything indistinct. "She's gone, sir; she's gone!"

"Who's she, and where has she gone?" said Rodd, rather sleepily.

"The _Diadem_, sir."

"What, the sloop of war? Not she! You will see her come peeping out of the fog yonder before long."

"Nay, sir; she's gone right off, and it's all right. My word, I wish we had got a fiddle here!"

"A fiddle! What for?"

"Hornpipe, sir. The boys are all bubbling over and don't know how to bear themselves. Nothing like a few kicks up and down the deck to a well-played old tune, to get rid of it all."

"Why, what are you talking about?" cried Rodd.



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