Hunting the Skipper: The Cruise of the «Seafowl» Sloop

Chapter Nineteen.

“Man Overboard!”

Murray leaned over the side, looking down at the dimly seen figure of his companion, hardly visible in the disturbed water, and full of the expectation of seeing him come up again directly.

“What a ducking!” he thought to himself, and his features were corrugated with mirth. Tom May too was indulging in a hearty grin, which however began to smooth into a look of horror in nowise behind the aspect of Murray’s face, for both now began to realise the fact that the tightened cord at which the harpooned fish was evidently tugging was rapidly drawing the middy farther and farther down, while the sloop was steadily gliding onward and leaving the unfortunate youth behind.

It was a time for action, and the moment Murray could throw off the nightmare-like feeling which held him motionless he sprang upon the rail, shouted loudly “Man overboard!” and then without a moment’s hesitation plunged headlong down, taking a header into the glittering sunlit water below.

“A man overboard!” The most thrilling words that can be uttered at sea – words which chill the hearers for a moment and then are followed by a wild feeling of excitement which pervades more than runs through a ship, awakening it as it were with one great throb from frigid silence to excited life. In this instance, as Frank Murray made his spring, his words seemed to be echoed by Tom May in a deep roar as he too sprang upon the rail, from which he leaped, throwing his hands on high as he described a curve outward from the Seafowl’s side, and then in the reverse of his position as his fingers touched the water there was a heavy splash, and those who ran to the side caught sight of the soles of his feet as he too disappeared for a short space beneath the rippled sea.

There was but a trifle of confusion on deck: the orders rang out, but almost before they were uttered the men were running to their stations in connection with one of the boats, which was rapidly manned; the blocks of the falls creaked as she sank down and kissed the water; the varnished ash blades flashed in the sunshine as they were seized and run from the rowlocks into regular double lines; and then, as they dipped, the cutter seemed to be endued with life, and darted forward to the rescue.

Meanwhile, confused by his sudden drag from daylight into semi-darkness and confusion, Roberts had recovered himself sufficiently to begin trying to free his wrist from the thin line which cut into it deeply as tug, tug, tug, it was drawn tighter and tighter by the harpooned fish, into whose back the barbed iron prongs had plunged deeply, and, far from robbing it of life, seemed only to have nerved it and stimulated it with a power that was extraordinary in a creature of its size. For the midshipman, as he struck out with one arm, felt himself dragged beneath the surface by his victim, whose efforts were directed entirely towards sounding deeply to seek the safety offered by the darkness fathoms below.

Tug and jerk, tug and jerk, in the midst of a confusion that grew more and more wild, as the midshipman strove to free himself from the bond which held him fast. The water thundered in his ears in a series of strange sounds which deepened into one deafening roar. The power of thinking of his position was rapidly passing away; the water above him grew darker and darker; and at last in one involuntary effort the lad ceased his struggle to free his wrist, and struck out wildly with arms and legs to force himself to the surface.

It was quite time, and fortunately the efforts of the fish to drag him down were for the moment weakening, while in response to his wild struggle the light grew brighter, and just as consciousness was about to leave him, the lad’s head rose above the surface again and he gasped for breath.

It was life, but the respirations were succeeded directly by a renewal of the sharp tugs at his wrist, and the water was about to close over his head again, when he felt the touch of a hand and heard the panting voice of some one whose tones were familiar, as he was turned over face upward and his descent was checked.

Then amidst the confusion and his attempts to recover his breath, the unfortunate lad heard another voice, and the gruff tones seemed to be those of one giving orders.

“Hooroar, my lad!” came, close to the middy’s ear. “That’s good. Wait a moment. My knife’ll soon cut him clear.”

“No, no, Tom; don’t cut. We can keep him up now. Shout for the boat.”

“They don’t want no shoutin’, sir. They’ll be here directly.”

These words all seemed to reach the ears of Roberts from somewhere far away, and then the water was thundering in them again, and he began once more to struggle for life. Then again he seemed to get his breath in a half-choking confused way, as he heard the gruff tones begin again.

“I’d better cut, sir, on’y my knife won’t open.”

“No, no, Tom; we can manage. Keep his head well up.”

“All right, sir. That was the beggar’s flurry. Dessay he’s turning up his white.”

“Hooray!” came like another echo, along with the splash of oars, and then half consciously Roberts felt himself dragged over the side of the boat. There was another cheer, and a strange sound as of a fish beating the planks rapidly with its tail, while Murray’s breathless voice, sounding a long way off, said —

“My word, he is a strong one! I am glad we’ve got him.”

Then several other voices seemed to be speaking together, but in a confused way, and Roberts felt as if he had been asleep, till some one whose voice sounded like the doctor’s said —

“Oh, he’s all right now, sir.”

“Who’s all right now?” thought the lad; and he opened his eyes, to find himself lying upon the deck with the doctor upon one knee by his side, and pretty well surrounded by the officers and men.

“Nice wet fellow you are, Roberts,” said the doctor.

“Eh?” said the lad, staring confusedly. “Have I been overboard?”

“Well, yes, just a trifle,” replied the doctor.

“Oh yes, I remember now. Ah! Where’s Frank Murray?” cried the lad excitedly.

“Here I am all right!” came from behind him.

“Ah!” ejaculated the half insensible lad, and he gave vent to a deep sigh of relief and closed his eyes. “I was afraid that – that – ”

“But I am all right, Dick,” cried Murray, catching the speaker by the hand.

“Ah, that’s right. I was afraid – somehow – I thought you were drowned.”

“There, there,” cried the doctor, bending over the lad and patting his shoulder, “nobody has been drowned, and you are all right again, so I want you to get below and have a good towelling and then tumble into some dry things while I mix you up a draught of – What’s the matter now?”

Roberts had suddenly sprung up into a sitting position, as if the doctor’s last words had touched a spring somewhere in the lad’s spine.

“Nothing, sir – nothing,” he cried excitedly. “I’m all right again now. I recollect all about it, and how Frank Murray saved my life.”

“Oh, it was Tom May did the most of it, Dick.”

“Did he help?” continued the lad. “Ah, he’s a good fellow, – Tom May. But I’m all right now, doctor; and where’s the fish?”

The lad stared about him in a puzzled way, for he had become conscious of the fact that those around him were roaring with laughter, an outburst which was gradually subsiding, while those most affected were wiping their eyes, when his last query about the fish set them off again.

“Why, doctor,” said the captain, trying to look serious, but evidently enjoying the mirth as much as any one present, “who is going to doubt the efficacy of your medicine after this? The very mention of it in Mr Roberts’s hearing acted upon him like magic. Did you see how he started up like the man in the old tooth tincture advertisement – ‘Ha, ha! Cured in an instant!’”

“Oh yes, sir,” said the doctor grimly; “but it’s all very fine. You are all glad of my help sometimes.”

“Of course, my dear Reston,” said the captain. “No one slights you and your skill; but you must own that it was comic to see how Mr Roberts started up the moment you said physic.”

“Oh yes, it was droll enough,” said the doctor good-humouredly. “There, Roberts, if you feel well enough to do without my draught I will not mix one. What do you say?”

“Oh, I’m all right now, sir,” cried the lad – “at least I shall be as soon as I’ve changed.”

“Off with you, then,” said the doctor; and catching hold of Murray’s proffered arm, Roberts and his friend hurried below.

Chapter Twenty.

In the Doctor’s Hands

Before the two middies had completed their change there was a tap at the cabin door, and in answer to the “Come in” Tom May’s head was thrust through the opening, his face puckered up into a friendly grin.

“Getting all right again, gentlemen?” he said.

“Oh yes, Tom,” cried Roberts excitedly, and he eagerly held out his hand, and catching the sailor by the shoulder dragged him inside. “I wanted to see you, Tom, and thank you for saving my life.”

“For what, sir?” said Tom sharply.

“For so bravely saving my life.”

“Oh, I say, sir,” grumbled the man, speaking bashfully, “if I’d ha’ knowed as you was going on like that I’m blessed if I’d ha’ come down.”

“Why, there was nothing to be ashamed of, Tom,” said Murray warmly.

“Oh no, sir; I warn’t ashamed to come down. I were on’y too glad to say a word to Mr Roberts like and see him come round.”

“I’m glad too,” said Murray; “and he feels very grateful to you for being so brave.”

“I warn’t brave, Mr Murray, sir. I did nowt. It was you – it was him, Mr Roberts, sir. He sings out, ‘Man overboard!’ and takes a header arter you, and what was I to do? He’s my orficer, sir, and I was obliged to go arter him. You sees that?”

“Yes, yes, Tom,” cried Roberts warmly. “He acted very bravely.”

“Oh, drop it!” cried Murray.

“Course he did, sir,” said the sailor. “I on’y obeyed orders.”

“Will you both drop it!” cried Murray angrily. “What’s the use of making a fuss about nothing? You’re all right again, Tom?”

“Me, sir? Right as ninepence. Never had nowt the matter with me. ’Sides,” continued the man, with a grin, “I had the doctor to look at me.”

“Oh, I say,” said Roberts eagerly, “he didn’t give you any of his stuff, did he?”

“No, sir; but he wanted to.”

“What did he say?”

“Said it would keep off the chill.”

“Yes, and what then?” said the lads, in a breath.

“I telled him, gentlemen, that the first luff had sent Mr Snelling the purser to me with a dose, and he just grunted at me and went up again. Oh, I’m all right enough. What about you, Mr Roberts, sir?”

“Thanks to you, Tom, I’m just as you say you are. But what about that fish?”

“Oh, it’s in the pot by now. The cook says it’s the biggest albicore he ever see in his life, and for sartain, gentlemen, I never see one much more than half as big. There’s bigger ones, of course, somewheres, but I never see one speared afore as would touch him. But I say, Mr Roberts, sir,” continued the man, “you do feel all right again, don’t you?”

“Oh yes, quite right, Tom; only a little bit achey about the back of the neck.”

“Course you do, sir. I felt like that both times when I got pretty nigh drownded. That’s ’cause you throws your head so far back, and it strains your muscles, sir. But never mind that, sir. It’ll soon go off. I was going to say, sir, if you felt right enough I should punish that there fish pretty hard.”

“I will, Tom,” said the lad merrily; and the man went on deck.

“Ready?” said Murray, as he finished dressing.

“Yes, I’m ready, and at the same time I don’t feel so,” was the reply.

“Don’t feel coming on poorly, do you?”

“Oh no,” replied Roberts, “but I don’t much care about going on deck again.”

“Why not?”

“There’s the skipper, and old Anderson; they’re both sure to begin to grumble now.”

“Oh no! I don’t think they’ll say anything.”

“Well, you’ll see,” said Roberts decisively; and the lad proved to be right when the pair went on deck, for no sooner did they appear than the first lieutenant, who was forward with the men, giving some instructions, caught sight of them and began to approach.

“Look at that,” whispered Roberts.

“Yes, and look at that, Dick,” whispered Murray. For the captain, who was on the quarter-deck, had apparently caught sight of them at the same time, and began to make for them.

There was no retreat, for the lieutenant would have met them. But it so happened that the latter saw his chief approaching and returned at once to the group of sailors, leaving the captain to have the first words.

“You’re right, Dick,” whispered Murray. “Now for a wigging!”

“Well, young gentlemen,” saluted them the next minute; “what have you to say for yourselves?”

“Thank you, sir,” said Murray, drawing himself up and saluting, “we’re not a bit the worse for our little adventure.”

“Humph!” ejaculated the captain, looking at him sternly. “None the worse, eh?”

“No, sir, not a bit, and I don’t think Roberts is; eh, Roberts?”

“Perhaps not, Mr Murray; but perhaps you will allow me to question Mr Roberts.”

“I beg your pardon, sir,” said Murray, colouring warmly.

“I do not grant it, sir,” said the captain stiffly; “and perhaps you will be good enough to bear in mind what are our relative positions – those of commander of this sloop of war and very junior officer. Now, Mr Roberts,” continued the captain sternly, as he half turned his back to Murray, “what have you to say for yourself?”

“Only that I’m very sorry to have been the cause of the trouble, sir.”

“Humph! That’s better,” said the captain, “if your sorrow is real.”

“Oh yes, sir; it’s quite real, sir,” said the youth hurriedly.

“Indeed! Well, I have my doubts, sir.”

“But it really was quite an accident, sir,” cried Roberts excitedly.

“Well, do you suppose, Mr Roberts, that I give you credit for purposely hitching yourself on to that fish and trying to get yourself drowned?”

“Oh no, sir; of course not.”

“Don’t interrupt me, Mr Roberts,” said the captain sourly.

“Why, you asked me a question,” thought the lad, “and I was only answering you;” and he turned very red in the face.

“I have been talking to Mr Anderson about this business, and he tells me that you both came worrying him for permission to use the grains and to waste your time trying to harpoon these fish that were playing about the bows, eh?”

“It was I, sir, who went to ask Mr Anderson for leave.”

“I was not addressing you, Mr Murray,” said the captain coldly; and then he continued: “Mr Anderson tells me that he put before you the fact that you would both have been better employed in continuing your studies of navigation. Now, you neither of you had the candour to tell me this. Anything but work, gentlemen, and the display of a determination to master your profession and grow worthy of trust, with the possibility of some day becoming worthy of taking charge of a vessel. I consider that you both – I say both, Mr Murray – took advantage of my kindly disposition and obtained the permission that Mr Anderson would have very properly withheld. Now look at the consequences of your folly; one of you was nearly drowned; the other was almost the cause of my losing one of my most valuable seamen in his efforts to save your lives; and the discipline of my ship is completely upset – a boat has to be launched, the doctor called upon to resuscitate one of you; and now what have you to say for yourselves? Nothing, but give me the paltry excuse of this being an accident. I tell you, gentlemen, that it cannot be considered an accident or mischance, for I look upon it as being a wilful disregard of your duties, and – er – er – that will do.”

The captain put his hands behind his back and stalked off, leaving the two lads looking at each other.

“That’s nice,” said Murray, in a whisper.

“Lovely!” whispered back Roberts.

“And this isn’t the worst of it,” said Murray softly; “here comes Anderson.”

“Oh, I do feel so bad!” muttered Roberts. “I’ll tell him so.”

“Well, young gentlemen,” said the lieutenant, coming up, “I hope the captain has taken you both well to task.”

“Yes, sir, he has,” said Murray, with a drily comical look upon his countenance. “I’m sure if you had heard him you wouldn’t think it necessary to say another word.”

The lieutenant gave the lad a severe look, frowning hard, and he was evidently about to say something sharp, but after being silent for a few moments his face relaxed and he smiled pleasantly.

“Well,” he said, turning again to Murray, “I will take it for granted that you have both had a thoroughly good talking to, and I will say no more.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Murray, with a sigh of relief.

The lieutenant turned upon him sharply.

“Yes,” he said, “I suppose you do mean that. Well, Mr Roberts, I hope you feel none the worse?”

“No, sir; yes, sir, I – no sir, not at all the worse.”

“I am glad of it. But you had a very narrow escape. Your life was saved by Murray’s bravery. A very gallant action, my lad – manly and brave; but no more of such gallant actions, if you please. I have quite enough responsibilities in connection with my duties on this ship without being worried with a pack of boys risking their lives for the sake of catching a fish or two, so let me have no more of it. Do you hear? There, you need not speak.”

The lieutenant turned short round and marched away frowning, leaving the lads looking at one another for a few minutes, before Murray whispered, “Come along forward,” with the result that they made for a favourite spot where, well out of sight of the quarter-deck, they could rest their folded arms upon the rail and gaze down into the transparent water which glided by the sloop’s cut-water with hardly a ripple, so soft was the breeze which filled the crowd of canvas that had been set.

“I thought we should get it,” said Roberts, after a few minutes’ silence.

“Oh, never mind, old chap,” said his companion quietly. “You got off pretty easy.”

“I did? Oh, come; it was you who got off easy. ‘A very gallant act,’ didn’t he say?”

“Something of the kind.”

“Yes; ‘a very gallant act.’ You always get the praise, Frank,” said Roberts gloomily. “It has always been so ever since we joined. One is expected to devote himself in every way possible to learning one’s profession, and for reward one gets bullied and blamed for pretty well everything. Nobody ever told me that I had performed a very gallant act.”

“Well, look here, what do you say to me tumbling overboard so that you can come over after me and save my life?”

“Bother! Look here, Frank, if you can’t talk sense you’d better hold your tongue.”

“If I did you’d only get more rusty. I say, Dick, I once read about a fellow being saved from drowning.”

“Me, of course,” interrupted Roberts, in an angry tone. “What are you up to now – fishing for praise of your ‘gallant act’?”

“Not likely,” was the reply, good-humouredly. “I was going to tell you about some one who was saved from drowning.”

“Well, you needn’t. I know all about it now, thank you, and I don’t want to hear.”

“Never mind, old chap; I want to tell you, and it’s very interesting and quite true.”

Roberts grunted and gave himself a hitch so as to turn half away from his companion and stand staring away to sea.

“It said that when the poor fellow was on the deck again – you see, he had fallen from the yard and they had to lower down a boat so as to get him aboard, and when they did he seemed to be quite dead – same as you did.”

“Tchah! Nothing of the kind. I was only a bit insensible.”

“Well, you were quite bad enough,” said Murray, “and the doctor had to bring you round same as this chap; and when he was able to sit up and talk it was quite curious – ”

“I don’t see anything curious about a half-drowned chap coming to and being able to talk.”

“No,” said Murray, smiling, as he watched his companion intently, “but that wasn’t the curious part.”