OLD TIMES REVIVED.
"I SAY! on deck, there!" continued the voice. "Don't throw any more of
them things at me, and I'll come up!"
These words aroused the crew. They made a rush for the fore-hatch,
and when they reached it found the owner of the head crouching among
the oil barrels. Frank looked at him in astonishment, and could
scarcely believe that he was a white man. His only clothing was a pair
of tattered trowsers, and those portions of his person which were
unprotected were as brown as sole-leather, made so, no doubt, by long
exposure to the sun and weather. Moreover, his body was profusely
tattooed, so that at the distance Frank stood from him, he looked as
though he had on a tight-fitting under-shirt of some dark-colored
material, with light blue slashings.
"Who are you, and where did you come from?" demanded the mate.
"I'm Chips," replied the man. "I used to be carpenter of the whale-ship
Mary Starbuck, that was wrecked here long ago. It was so long ago," he
added, putting his hand to his forehead in a bewildered sort of way,
"that I have almost forgot how it happened."
"Come on deck," said the mate, in a very different tone of voice, "and
tell us all about it."
A dozen pairs of ready hands were stretched down to the prisoner--for
such Frank now knew him to be--and in a moment more he was hoisted out
of the hold to the deck. Frank had a good view of him then, and saw
that he really was a white man. His long, matted beard, which hung down
nearly to his waist, had afforded some protection to his breast, and
the skin beneath it was almost as white as his own. The man pulled his
forelock when he found himself standing in the presence of the mate,
and gave his trowsers a regular sailor hitch.
"I remember hearing of the loss of the Starbuck," said Mr. Gale. "The
news reached Nantucket just before I sailed; but it wasn't so very long
ago--not quite two years."
"Is that all, sir? It seems a longer time to me," said the man, whom we
will call by the name he had given. "You're the first white men I've
set eyes on since then, except those on the island, and you can't call
them white now. Some of them are blacker than I am."
"Do you mean to say that there are men on that island held as
prisoners?" asked Frank.
"Four more of 'em, sir, and one has been here, as near as he can
calculate, about ten years. I hope you won't sail without trying to do
something for 'em, sir. They lead a hard life here."
"How do you happen to be aboard my ship?" asked the mate.
"I came off in one of the canoes, sir, and watching my chance jumped
into the hold. I was willing to fight for my liberty, but I was afraid
that if I tried to join in with you, you would kill me, not knowing who
I was, and if you didn't the natives would, when they saw me trying to
desert 'em; and I was so anxious to see my home and family once more
that I didn't dare run any risks."
Chips then went on to tell how he came to be a prisoner in the hands
of the islanders. His narrative would make an interesting chapter
by itself; but as it has no bearing on our story, and nothing to do
with the events that happened afterward, we condense it into a few
sentences. The ship to which he belonged was wrecked while lying at the
island to fill up with water. A furious storm first disabled her, so
that she could not make an offing, and then drove her high and dry upon
the bar. Only two of the crew succeeded in reaching the shore, Chips
and another, and they were immediately pounced upon by the natives, who
carried them in triumph to their principal village, which was hidden
away among the rocky gorges in the interior of the island. They found
four other prisoners there, and it was owing to their influence that
Chips was so well received. He was a carpenter, and just the man the
natives wanted. His companion, however, was nothing but a foremast
hand, and not being of any particular use, he was harshly treated,
and was often in danger of his life. Being driven desperate at last,
he seized the first opportunity for escape that presented itself, and
succeeded, at very great risk, in swimming off to a ship that came
there for water. He warned the captain off, most likely, for the vessel
went away at once, and it was probably through him that the news of the
loss of the Mary Starbuck was carried to Nantucket. The five prisoners
who were left were constantly on the alert to elude the vigilance of
their captors, but this was the first opportunity that Chips had ever
found. He and his companions were allowed the freedom of the island
until a vessel hove in sight, and then they were hurried to the village
and kept under guard as long as she remained.
Being satisfied at last that there was but one way to accomplish his
object, Chips made himself perfectly at home on the island, acted
quite contented, and finally succeeded in making the natives believe
that he had no desire to leave them. He became a savage to all intents
and purposes. He took part in their dances and pow-wows, joined in
their debates, tried to teach them the use of the fire-arms they found
on the vessels that fell into their hands, and so won their confidence
that they permitted him to take part in the attack on the Tycoon.
Watching his chance, while the fight was in progress, he slipped into
the hold, and there he was among his own kind once more.
"And now I hope you'll lend a hand to them poor fellows I left behind,
sir," said Chips, in conclusion. "It can be easy done now, but
to-morrow it'll be too late. There ain't more'n a hundred fighting men
on the island, but to-night they'll send off canoes after help, and in
the morning, if you're here, you will have an army of 'em howling about
you."
"How far is it to the village?" asked Mr. Gale.
"O, you'll not have to go back to the principal town, sir," answered
Chips. "There's a little fishing village right here on the beach, and
the natives will all be there to-night, holding a grand pow-wow and
waiting for the help that's coming to-morrow. If we can get close to
them and give them a volley before they know it, they'll run like deer!"
"Why I thought you said they had fire-arms," exclaimed the mate.
"So they have, sir, but it would make you laugh to see them use them,"
said Chips. "They take the butt of a gun under their arms, shut their
eyes and turn away their heads before they pull the trigger. They
seem to think it is the noise that does the damage. All we want, you
understand, sir, is to drive 'em at the start. They won't run far
before they'll turn on us, and then they'll fight; but by the time
they do that, the prisoners will have had a chance to take care of
themselves, and we can be back to our boats. I know just where the
village is, and can lead you to it in ten minutes after we touch the
beach."
"I suppose you don't know anything about those boats' crews that went
ashore?" said the mate.
"No, sir. Those who were not killed are prisoners, and we'll find them
at the village."
The man's proposition was well worth thinking over, the mate told
himself. He felt that he had a duty to perform toward the prisoners
in the hands of the savages, and he was not the one to shrink from
it. True, he had a small force to work with, but if he acted with
promptness and decision when the time for action arrived, much might be
done. "Boys, turn to and straighten up here," said he, after a moment's
reflection. "Let's make the old Tycoon look a little more like herself.
Nelson, come with me."
The men went to work with a will--all except Lucas, Barton and Chips,
who disappeared in the forecastle for a few minutes. When they came on
deck again Chips could hardly have been told from the rest of the crew,
his tattooed body being clothed in a full sailor's rig, and his matted
hair covered with a new tarpaulin. He lent a hand with the rest, and
soon proved that he had not forgotten how to do a seaman's duty.
Frank followed Mr. Gale to the quarter-deck. "What do you think of
this?" asked the mate. "Shall we risk it?"
"By all means," answered Frank, quickly. "How would you and I feel if
we were held captives by these heathen, and some of our own countrymen
should come here, and, after learning our situation, go off without
making an effort to help us? We may be able to rescue the captain or
some of his men, if they are still alive."
Mr. Gale looked at his companion a little doubtfully.
"O, I mean it," said Frank, who knew what was passing in the officer's
mind. "I have no reason to like Captain Barclay, and if I could once
bring him before a court of justice he would suffer for what he has
done. But this is a different thing. If I get the chance, I'll try just
as hard to help him as I would to help you."
"Well, I suppose that is the right sort of feeling," said the mate,
"but it isn't my style, I am free to say. A man who has the heart to
turn a boat's crew adrift on the ocean, doesn't deserve any help when
he's in difficulty. It's the others I want to work for, but here's the
trouble: I don't know anything about this fighting business."
"I've had a little experience in it," said Frank, "and so have Lucas
and Barton. They are old men-of-war's men, and I know you can depend on
them. I'll give you all the help I can."
"Won't you boss the job?"
"No, I'd rather not. The men will yield you more prompt obedience."
"I know a story worth two of that, sir. I ain't blind or deaf, either."
After some more conversation it was decided that the Tycoon's crew
could not leave the island with clear consciences unless they made some
sort of a demonstration in favor of the captives, and Frank was finally
prevailed upon to take command of the expedition. This being settled,
the first thing the young sailor did was to call Chips aft. He and Mr.
Gale spent an hour in conversation with him, and when the man went
forward again Frank held in his hands a map of the island, on which
the position of the fishing village, the situation of every hut in it,
the shape of the jungle that surrounded it, and the location of all
the paths that led to it were plainly marked. Frank also had a short
consultation with Lucas, who, when it was over, made his way forward
again, winking and nodding as he always did when he had anything on his
mind. His companions tried hard to find out what had passed between him
and the captain, as everybody called Frank now; but Lucas, while he
seemed to grow in size under the pressure of the secret that had been
committed to his keeping, remained as dumb as a tar-bucket.
Everything had now been done that could be done before dark--except
getting the boats and weapons in readiness--and Frank recollected
that he had been at sea for twenty-four hours in an open boat without
anything to eat, and that he was very hungry. Perhaps the savory odors
that now and then came from the galley recalled this fact to his mind.
At any rate they brought his appetite back to him, and he did ample
justice to the abundant meal that was soon served up. The captain was
not there now to superintend the drawing of the provisions, so the
doctor went into the store-room and helped himself. The consequence
was that some articles which rightfully belonged to the men, but which
they had never tasted since leaving port, such as beans, flour, dried
apples and molasses, found their way into the forecastle. Each man got
an extra cup of coffee--strong coffee, too--an extra tablespoonful of
sugar in it, and all he wanted to eat besides. Mr. Gale and Frank dined
in the cabin and the captain's steward waited on them.
"That's all right," said Lucas, when the steward told him of it
afterward. "Cap'n Nelson's a cap'n just as much as Cap'n Barclay, and
just as good a one, too. Don't I know? He belongs in the cabin and at
the head of the table, and he's got to stay there now. He shan't never
come into this forecastle again!"
After dinner two of the boats were overhauled and put in readiness for
the expedition, which was to leave the ship as soon as darkness settled
down to hide her from the watchful eyes of those on shore, the muskets
and pistols were loaded, and a dozen rounds of cartridges provided
for each man. Of course these preparations did not escape the notice
of the sailors, who knew by them that there was work to be done. It
soon got abroad that Frank was at the head of the affair, and that set
Lucas and Barton in ecstacies. This made them think of old times; and
so eager were they for the fight, that they almost got up a row with
Boson and Tully just to get their hands in. They did not neglect, too,
to make sundry little arrangements with their companions in regard to
the treatment the captain and first mate were to receive in case they
were found among the prisoners. They would do their best to rescue
the friends of Chips, but Captain Barclay should not come back to the
ship, no matter what happened. All this, however, was upset by a simple
order from their wide-awake leader, who seemed to see everything, know
everything and who neglected nothing.
The boats and weapons being in readiness, all the crew were ordered
below to rest and sleep, except a boatsteerer's watch, who remained on
deck to look out for the ship. Even these were permitted to lie down on
deck, with the exception of one man, whose duty it was to keep an eye
on the shore, and report anything suspicious that he might see going on
there.
The men were allowed to sleep until nine o'clock, when they were called
on deck to prepare for action. An abundant and well-cooked supper was
served up and eagerly devoured by the grateful foremast hands, who
told one another that if Captain Nelson and Mr. Gale were the officers
of the ship, they'd never have any trouble with their crew, but they
wouldn't catch much grease. They'd feed their men so high that they
would get too fat to see a spout or pull an oar.
Supper over, the men were mustered on the quarter-deck to listen to
Frank's plan of the campaign. He had made up his mind what ought to be
done and assigned each man a particular duty, giving him his orders so
plainly that there was no possible chance for a misunderstanding. One
order was, that every hut in the village was to be set on fire--they
wanted a light to fight by--but it must first be searched to make
sure that it contained no prisoners. Some of the boats' crews might
be bound or severely wounded and unable to help themselves; and
such unfortunates needed especial care and must be looked after by
trustworthy men. If any wounded were discovered, they must be turned
over to Lucas and Barton, who would assist them back to the boats and
remain there to guard them. The men thus designated raised their hands
to their caps and said, "Ay, ay, sir!" but when Frank turned to another
sailor to give him his orders, they looked at each other and scowled
fiercely.
"Now here's a go," muttered Barton. "Suppose we find the first mate
with a lance or something through his leg! Eh?"
"Or the cap'n," whispered Lucas, in great disgust.
"Must we bring him to the boat, carry him like he was a blessed little
baby, and then watch to see that the niggers don't slip around and send
him to Davy's Locker, where he belongs?" added Barton.
"Them's the orders."
"I don't care. I won't do it."
"Avast, there! Better not go agin orders when they come from _him_,"
whispered Lucas, jerking his thumb towards Frank. "Besides, didn't he
say we was men as could be trusted?"
"Ay, so he did," answered Barton, after thinking a moment. "So he did.
We can't go back on him after that."
Having given his instructions in the plainest language he was master
of, Frank went back to the head of the line and made each man repeat
what he had said to him, to make sure that he fully understood what
was required, and then he distributed the weapons and ammunition. The
Kanakas, although as eager for the fight as their white companions,
declined to accept the muskets that were offered them, preferring to
use the lances and war-clubs the natives had left behind them. It was a
motley-looking company altogether, Frank told himself, after they were
all armed and stood awaiting his orders--very unlike the well-provided
and well-disciplined bluejackets he had been accustomed to command on
expeditions similar to this.
Everything being in readiness, Frank nodded to Mr. Gale, who ordered
the boats to be lowered away and the crews to tumble into them. Frank
took every man, knowing that the natives would not attack the ship
while their homes were in danger. When every one was in his place he
clambered down into one of the boats, Mr. Gale having charge of the
other, and led the way toward the beach. Arriving within a few rods
of it the boats were brought to a stand still, and Chips slipped
noiselessly into the water and struck out for the beach, accompanied by
Lucas, who carried a blubber-knife between his teeth. Chips might have
been astonished to know that Lucas had orders to use the blubber-knife
at the very first sign of treachery. This was the secret the old
boatswain's mate had been carrying all the afternoon. Frank believed
the story Chips had told him, but he was so wary that he neglected no
precautions to insure the success of the expedition and the safety of
the men composing it.
At the end of half an hour the two men made their appearance again,
coming alongside so silently that Frank did not see them until they
laid hold of the gunwale. They reported the coast clear. The natives,
not dreaming of danger, were all at the village, going through some
sort of a ceremony intended to bring them success in the next attack
they made on the ship, and which Chips said would not be delayed longer
than daylight. Frank breathed easier now. Chips was not trying to lead
him into an ambush, and that was one thing off his mind.
Slowly and noiselessly the boats approached the shore, and when their
bows touched the sand the crews disembarked. The two men selected
to guard them promptly took their positions, and the rest fell in
behind Chips, who led them along a narrow path through darkness so
intense that Frank, who followed close at his heels, was obliged to
take hold of his clothing in order to keep track of him. Ten minutes'
walk brought them within sight of a bright fire, which they could see
shining through the trees in front of them. There they stopped. Frank
whispered to the men as they came up one after another, showed them
the position of the village, and they lost no time in taking up the
positions he assigned them. When they had all moved off to the right
and left, Frank, Mr. Gale and Chips were left alone. They waited and
listened for a few minutes, and then moved down the path until they
obtained a view of the fire. It was a large one, and threw out so
much light that every hut in the village could be distinctly seen.
There were about two hundred of the natives in sight, men, women and
children, and some were seated in a circle about the fire, while others
stood erect, looking intently toward the jungle where Frank knew the
right of his line was taking up its position. Their quick ears warned
them of the approach of an enemy.
At this moment Frank caught the gleam of a bayonet on the extreme left
of the line. That told him that some of his men were in position, and
he decided to begin operations at once. He nodded to his companions,
and instantly three muskets were levelled and belched forth their
contents in quick succession. This was the signal for the attack, and
it was promptly obeyed. Muskets and pistols roared all along the line,
and such a chorus of hoarse voices arose from the jungle that Frank,
had he not known just how many men he had at his command, would have
supposed that there was a small army hidden there.
The natives behaved just as Chips said they would. The most of them
took to their heels at once, while the bravest among them lingered long
enough to fire their muskets. But they discharged them any how--just
as they happened to pick them up--and Frank saw that the muzzles of
the most of them were pointed into the air. No sooner were the weapons
emptied than the owners threw them down and ran for life.
In two minutes' time the sailors were all in the now deserted village,
and two of the huts had been fired by Chips, who showed himself as
active as a cat. He ran about with a fire-brand in each hand, calling
loudly on the captives to make all haste to reach the beach, telling
them they would find boats there and men to protect them.
Frank remained in the centre of the line, so that he could see all
that was going on and direct the movements of his men, and it was with
no little satisfaction that he noted the care with which each member
of his small company took to carry out the instructions given him.
Frank did not see that any of the natives were killed, but he did see
one prisoner rescued. He did not get a glimpse of his face or of his
clothing, but a remark Lucas made as he and Barton carried him by in
their arms, told him who it was. "This ain't such a nice piece of
business as it might be, sir," said the former, touching his cap.
"It's the captain," thought Frank. "That was a lucky thought of mine,
appointing two of his worst enemies to take care of him, for they
wouldn't injure him now for the world. He's badly hurt, too. Will he
act more like a man now, or be a worse tyrant than ever?"
In a very short space of time the whole village was in a blaze. The
huts being built of bamboo and their cone-shaped roofs thatched with
dry grass, they burned like so much tinder. There was nothing more to
be done now--nothing more they could do. They had rescued one prisoner,
given the others a chance to run if they were able to do it, and now
he must take care of his own men before the natives turned on them.
The signal to retreat, a long, shrill whistle, was as promptly obeyed
as the signal to attack. The men hurried toward him, and throwing
their weapons on their shoulders fell in behind Chips, who led the way
toward the beach at a dog trot. Frank ran his eye over the line as it
moved passed him to see if there was anybody missing, and found to his
delight that not only were the men all there, but also two more rescued
prisoners, the captain's harpooner and bow-oarsman, who saluted him
as they went by. When the last man was in the path, Frank and Mr. Gale
fell in and brought up the rear. A few minutes' rapid run brought them
to the beach, and after seeing the wounded captain stowed away as
comfortably as circumstances would permit, Frank ordered the crews into
the boats, which were pushed off toward the ship. There was no pursuit
attempted, the natives being too badly frightened to rally immediately.
By the time their expected reinforcements arrived, the Tycoon was safe
out of their reach.