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

The man stopped short and dropped upon one knee to listen.

“N-n-n-Yes, I can, sir,” whispered the man quickly. “Come on, sir; the sailors, they’re not far behind. Gently; I don’t think they can hear us then. Let’s get up to the first luff and see what he says about giving them another shot or two.”

“Yes, press on. We’ve let them get too far ahead,” said Murray hastily. “We ought to have kept close up.”

“Would ha’ been better for some things, sir; but you can’t keep close up when you’re in the rear and hear the enemy too. Wish the first luff would let us have that nigger chap with us. He can feel his way in the dark when it’s black as black.”

“But he can’t be spared. Can you tell how near the enemy are?”

“No, sir. Can’t hear ’em now. Let’s ketch up to our chaps, and then as soon as we’re within touch with ’em we’ll stop again and listen.”

“Halt there, or we fire!” said a voice sharply, out of the black darkness in front.

“Hush! The enemy are close at hand,” whispered Murray, in a low suppressed voice.

“Who’s yon?” whispered another voice. “Look out, sir.”

“Here, Tom, what does this mean?” said Murray excitedly.

“Means it ought to be my messmate, Billy Titely sir, only he’s got winged, sir, and gone right on ahead.”

“Nay, he arn’t, Tom, lad, ’cause he’s here,” came in the familiar tones. “Say, Mr Roberts, sir, is that there Tom May talking, or has my wound made me a bit dillylerous. I wish you’d just say.”

“Is Dick Roberts there?” whispered Murray excitedly.

“I should say he was, sir, only I keep on going off giddy like.”

“But you ought to be right on ahead of Mr Anderson and the men,” cried Murray.

“There, I telled you, sir, Mr Roberts, sir,” said Titely. “I could feel like as we was somehow got into the wrong watch, and I did say so, sir.”

“Oh, bother!” cried Roberts. “It was so dark, and my head was all of a swim. Well, never mind; let’s get into our right place again. Where is it?”

“I dunno, sir. These here black chaps as is guiding us will show us right enough.”

“Hist! Hist!” whispered Murray. “Can’t you understand? We’re the rear-guard of the column, Tom May and I, and the enemy is somewhere close behind. Haven’t you got your men with you, and some blacks?”

“We had,” replied Roberts, “but somehow we’ve got separated from them, or they’ve got separated from us; I don’t know how it is. It’s all through my wound, I suppose. Here, Murray, old chap, you’d better put us right again.”

“Will you hold your stupid tongue, Dick?” whispered Murray excitedly. “Here, both you and Titely follow me. Get behind them, Tom May, and look sharp, or we shall be too late.”

“Ay, ay, sir!” replied the big sailor; and Murray heard him throw his musket from one shoulder to the other before seeming to loosen his cutlass in the scabbard, which the lad could only interpret as putting himself in readiness for an immediate encounter.

“Listen again, Tom,” whispered Murray.

There was a pause, and for a few minutes nothing broke the strange silence which reigned.

“Well?” whispered the middy impatiently.

“Well, sir, I can’t make nothing of it,” replied the sailor.

“Not so loud, Tom.”

“All right, sir, but I don’t think that was much of a pig’s whisper.”

“Oh, nonsense! What do you make of it now?”

“Nowt, sir, only as we’ve got ourselves into a great hobble. I can’t hear nothing of our chaps.”

“No; they’ve gone on, and we must overtake them and let Mr Anderson know that Roberts and Titely have lost their way, and have doubled back so that we have met them.”

“Ay, ay, sir, that’s the way; but how are we going to do it?”

“You take Titely by the arm, and I’ll hurry on Mr Roberts. Let’s start at once.”

“Right, sir. Which way?”

“Follow Mr Anderson’s track at once.”

“Yes, sir, of course; but which way’s that?”

“Why, you don’t mean to say you’ve lost touch, Tom?” said Murray excitedly.

“Nay, sir, I arn’t had nothing to touch lately. I s’pose I’ve turned stoopid through coming upon them two so sudden. But just you start me, sir, and then I shall go on as steady and reg’lar as can be.”

“Tom!” groaned Murray.

“Ay, ay, sir! Which way?”

Murray uttered a gasp as he stood trying to pierce the darkness, turning slowly in different directions the while.

“Ready, sir,” said the sailor. “I’ve got hold of Bill Titely, sir, quite tightly too,” added the man, with a low chuckle.

Titely groaned aloud.

“Steady, sir!” whispered the man. “That was a regular pig’s whisper, and no mistake. – Quiet, you lubber!” he added, giving his messmate a shake. “Don’t bully him, sir; his wound’s made him a bit silly like, and he don’t quite know what he’s about, or he wouldn’t howl aloud like that.”

“Here, stop that,” came from out of the darkness. “Who is it – you, Frank? Don’t play the fool with a fellow. It makes me so jolly giddy, and it hurts.”

“I’m not doing anything, Dick,” whispered Murray. “Oh, do be quiet, old chap! Can’t you understand that your wound has made you turn weak, and that the enemy are somewhere close at hand?”

“No! It all goes round and round and round. Stop it, will you?”

“Dick, I’m doing nothing,” said Murray despairingly. “Be quiet, or you’ll betray us to the enemy.”

“Hang the enemy! Who cares for the enemy? I’m not going to run away from a set of woolly-headed niggers. Let’s fight them and have done with it.”

“Say, Mr Murray, sir, we’ve got in a hole this time. Arn’t you ’most as bad as me?”

“Worse, Tom – worse!” groaned Murray.

“Oh, you couldn’t be worse, sir,” said the man hastily; “but you can’t tell me which way to go, can you?”

“No, Tom; the darkness seems to have quite confused me, and if I tell you to make a start we’re just as likely to run upon the enemy as to go after Mr Anderson.”

“That’s so, sir; and that arn’t the worst of it.”

“There can be no worse, Tom,” said Murray despondently.

“Oh yes, sir, there can, for you see it arn’t you and me alone to look after one another; we’ve each got a messmate on our hands, for I s’pose it wouldn’t be right for you to leave Mr Roberts to shift for hisself, no more than it would for me to leave Billy Titely.”

“Of course not, poor fellows; we must stand by them to the last.”

“That’s your sort, sir. A sailor allers stands by his messmate; but they are a pair of okkard ones just now, just at a time when it’s dark as the bottom of a pitch kettle full right up to the very top. But do say something, Mr Murray, sir.”

“Say, Tom! I’ve got nothing to say.”

“I know some one who will have, sir, when we come acrorst him, and that’s Mr Anderson, sir.” Murray groaned.

“I think I shall get behind you, sir,” said the big sailor, with a chuckle, “so as he can take the sharp edge off his tongue on you first.”

“Tom May!” whispered the midshipman bitterly. “How can you laugh at a time like this!”

“I dunno, sir, but I don’t mean nothing disrespectful to my officer, sir. I thought a bit of a joke would cheer us up a bit. But it arn’t nat’ral like, for I feel as if I could lay my cocoanut up again’ a tree and howl like a sick dog as has got his fore foot under a wheel. But it is a muddle, sir, arn’t it? What shall we do?”

“I can only think one thing, Tom, and it is horrible. It seems like giving up in despair.”

“Never mind, sir: let’s have it, for I want to be doing something.”

“I can think of nothing but waiting till daylight.”

“Can’t you, sir? Well, I thought that, but it seemed to me too stoopid. But I don’t know as there isn’t some good in it, for we might get them two to lie still and sleep, and that’s about all they’re fit for. It’s orful dark, but that don’t matter for the sick bay, and when they wake up again in the morning, perhaps they won’t talk silly. You’re right, sir; let’s put our wounded to bed, and then divide the rest of the night into two watches. I’ll take the first, and you take the second watch, which will carry us well on till daylight. What do you say to that, sir?”

“That it is the best thing to be done; only we’ll watch together, Tom, and rest.”

“Not you go to sleep, sir?” said Tom dubiously.

“I could not sleep, Tom. We’ll talk in whispers about the blacks’ meeting and what they were planning to do.”

“Very well, sir. – What say, Billy? No, no! No answering, my lad. You’ll be telling the niggers where we are. You’ve got to lie down, for it arn’t your watch. – That’s the way. – Now, Mr Murray, sir, you let your one down easy. That’s the way, sir – close up together. It’ll keep ’em right, and p’raps ward off the fever. Now you and I sit down and have our palaver. I should say let’s sit on ’em as soon as they’re asleep, but I s’pose you wouldn’t like to sit on Mr Roberts.”

“Oh no, of course not,” said the midshipman.

“All right, sir; you think it wouldn’t be fair to your messmate, but it would, for it would keep him warm. But I shall do as you do, sir; or let’s try t’other way.”

“What other way, Tom?”

“Sit up close to one another, back to back; then I warms you and you warms me, and that keeps away the chill. You gets a bit tired after a time and feels ready to droop for’ard on to your nose, but when that comes on you can hook elbers, and that holds you upright. – Now then, sir, how’s that? Right? Wait a minute; let’s have a listen. Three cheers for well-boxed ears!”

The big sailor sat upright and listened intently for a few minutes, before he whispered —

“I can just hear the beetles crawling about among the dead leaves and things, sir, and seeming to talk to one another in their way, but I can’t hear no niggers coming arter us. Strange thing, arn’t it, sir, that one set o’ blacks should take to capturing another set o’ blacks and selling ’em into slavery? Them’s a savage lot as that Huggins has got together, and it strikes me as we shall find ’em reg’lar beggars to fight if it’s all right as Master See-saw says about their manning his ships. So far as I could make out he’s got schooners manned with white ruffians as well as black blacks, and all as bad as bad can be.”

“Yes, Tom,” said Murray thoughtfully.

“Nice beauties,” continued Tom, “and so far as I can make out, sir, there was going to be a reg’lar rising to-night, or last night. The plantation niggers had come to the way of thinking that it was time to mutiny and kill off them as had brought ’em here, and so that there Huggins – my word, shouldn’t I like to have the job of huggin’ him! – got to know of it and brings his schooners’ crews to show ’em they was not the sort of chaps to carry out a mutiny of that kind.”

“Poor wretches, no,” said Murray sadly.

“That’s right, Mr Murray, sir. Poor wretches it is. You see, sir, they’re a different sort o’ nigger altogether. I got to know somehow from a marchant skipper as traded off the West Coast that there’s two sorts o’ tribes there, fighting tribes as fights by nature, and tribes as ’tisn’t their nature to fight at all. Well, sir, these here first ones makes war upon them as can’t fight, carries off all they can as prisoners, and sells ’em to the slave-traders. Then it comes at last to a mutiny like this here we’ve seen, and the poor wretches, as you calls them, is worse fighters than they was afore, and slaving skippers like Huggins collects their schooners’ crews together and drives the black mutineers before ’em like a flock o’ Baa, baa, black sheep, kills a lot and frightens a lot more to death, and then things goes on just the same as before. – Comfortable, sir?”

“No, Tom. Are you?”

“No, sir. But that’s about how it is, arn’t it?”

“Yes, I believe so, Tom.”

“Then it goes on as I said till their medicine man – sort o’ priest, I suppose – stirs ’em to make another try to get the upper hand. Talks a lot o’ that nonsense to ’em about fetish and Obeah, as they calls it, and shows the poor benighted chaps a bit of hanky panky work with a big snake like that we saw to-night. Makes ’em think the snake’s horrid poisonous, and that it can’t bite him as handles it, because he’s took some stuff or another. Rum game that there was with that sarpent, and – I say, sir, don’t you think we’d better get up now for a bit and just mark time? You see, we can’t walk, for if we do we shall lose ourselves.”

“We might take it in turns, and just keep touch of one another.”

“What, sir? No, thankye. Ketch me trying that way again! We’ve had enough of that. Fust thing, though, let’s see how our wounded’s getting on.”

“Yes, Tom,” said Murray; and they felt for their unfortunate companions in the darkness, with the result that Titely flung out one fist with the accompaniment of an angry growl, and at the first touch of Murray’s fingers, Roberts uttered an angry expostulation, taking all the stiffness out of his brother middy’s joints as the lad started, broke out in a violent perspiration, and caught hold of his wakeful companion, for the pair to stand listening for some sign of the enemy having heard the cry, and beginning to steal silently towards them.

“Cutlasses, Tom,” whispered Murray, with his lips to the big sailor’s ear, and together they unsheathed their weapons and stood back to back, ready to defend themselves.

“Thrust, Tom,” whispered Murray again.

“Ay, ay, sir!” And then the terrible silence of the black darkness was only broken by a faint mutter from one or other of the wounded pair, while the listeners breathed hard in agony, trying the while to suppress the going and coming of the prime necessity of life. Murray pressed the hard hilt of his cutlass against his breast in the faint hope that by so doing he could deaden the heavy throbbing that sounded loudly to his ear, while if any one was approaching at all near he felt certain that he must hear the dull thumps that went on within the breast of the big sailor.

There was another dread, too, which troubled the watch-keepers: at any moment they felt certain the disturbed sleepers might begin talking aloud. But that peril they were spared.

“Don’t hear anything, sir,” whispered Tom, at last. “I made sure we should have brought them down upon us. I say, sir, it seems to me as Natur must have made some mistake.”

“How?” asked Murray.

“Forgot to wind up the sun last night.”

“What do you mean?”

“So as it should rise again.”

“Nonsense!” said Murray, in a voice which sounded to be full of annoyance. “That’s the morning breeze beginning to blow.”

“Well, I don’t care, sir,” grumbled the big sailor; “it ought to have been to-morrow morning before now. Sun must be late. I never knowed such a long night before.”

“It’s coming, Tom, and before long. Isn’t that the warm glow?”

“No,” said the sailor shortly. “As you said, there’s a breeze coming up from somewhere or another, and tidy strong, too.”

“Yes,” said Murray.

“Well, it’s blowing up the embers of the fire that was burning its way through the woods.”

“Think so, Tom?” said Murray, his companion’s words arousing his interest.

“Yes, sir; that’s it. Can’t you see that it looks reddish?”

“So does the sunrise.”

“Yes, sir, that’s true; but all the same I’m sartain that’s the fire brightening up a bit. We haven’t seen no pale dawn yet.”

“If it would only come, Tom!”

“Yes, sir; and what then?”

“We shall be able to find our messmates and bring them to our side.”

“Maybe we shall bring the black and white niggers instead, sir, and it’ll mean a fight, for we’re not going to give up quietly, are we?”

“No, Tom, and I hope that when those two wake up they may be able to fire a shot or two to help us.”

“Hope so, sir. But look yonder: there’s the dawn coming.”

“Yes!” whispered Murray eagerly. “Look; I can just make out the branches of a tree against the sky.”

“That’s right, sir. Now for it; what’s it going to be – enemies or friends?”

“Friends, Tom,” whispered Murray confidently.

There was a pause, during which the pair stood gazing straight before them, striving to pierce the dim dawn which seemed to consist for the most part of a thick mist which lay low upon the surface of the earth, while above the top of the forest all was fairly clear.

Then all at once, very softly, but so clear of utterance that the word seemed to vibrate in the middy’s ear, the big sailor uttered a whisper, as he pressed his firm, strong hand upon the lad’s shoulder.

His word was “Enemies!” and in obedience to the warning, Murray sank down till he lay prone upon the dew-wet earth.

For about fifty yards away there were figures moving, and evidently in the direction of the spot where the two watchers lay.